Dragon Age: The Herald of WHAT!
by dominicgrim
Summary: Anastasia Aliza Trevelyan was not a hero, she never had wanted to be, but when destiny called she had to answer. Maker save me, she thought, I'm doomed. Tale of Dragon Age: Inquisition. Violence, language, and sexual situations later, not sure who the romantic pairing will be, read and see. I don't own Dragon Age, sadly.
1. Arrival

**A/N: This is a story of Dragon Age Inquisition: I'm going to be doing this tale as I play through the game, so there might not be many quick updates, but I hope you like the ride. Spoilers of course as we proceed, so if you don't want to know them, so be warned. Anyway here is the first chapter, say hello to the future Inquisitor**

**Dragon Age: Herald of WHAT?!**

**Chapter 1: Arrival**

**9:40 Dragon Age: Two weeks before the official start of the Conclave**

"Isn't beautiful Anastasia?"

Anastasia Aliza Trevelyan, third daughter of the matriarch of House Trevelyan of the mighty city of Ostwick sighed, trying to at least appear to be as interested in all this as her Uncle Randolph was. It was either that or be chastised again for not taking the business of their journey here seriously again, something that her uncle had proven to be quite fond of since they left home all those weeks ago. It had been a hard trek, first by ship, then from Highever journeying towards the Frostback Mountains.

The journey to the village of Haven had been very tiring, wet and cold, but at last they were here.

They were finally in Haven.

They had reached the Conclave.

She slipped down her hood taking in the immediate surroundings.

She tried not to sniff with distaste.

Andraste save me, she thought, I'm going to be bored out of my mind!

Of course, she did not say those words out loud, oh no.

When she spoke it was softly and respectfully.

"Yes Uncle," she said rubbing her arms, her noble garments doing little to keep out the biting cold of the Frostbacks.

"It is quite beautiful indeed," she added quickly, hoping to avoid another tongue lashing.

Uncle Randolph seemed pleased with her answer.

She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

She supposed for a village in the middle of nowhere it was quite beautiful, not her choice of places to live, but…

_She supposed that __**someone**__ needed to live here._

Anastasia, or Ana as she was known to her friends, was not an extremely impressive woman. She had only just turned nineteen, but no proposals had come from her mother's allies. She was lithe young woman, slender yet strong, though her tanned freckled face and short red hair was relatively plain. She was not a beauty like her older sister or a scholar like her older brother. As the third born child not much was expected of her. Her family had their heir, and the spare, which meant that she often shuffled along on missions that her Mother and siblings were too busy to carry out themselves.

The Conclave, despite its value to the Divine, was one such mission.

Maker help her, she hoped this went better than her trip to Starkhaven last year, that one was beyond awful!

She would simply try to stay awake, and not get on her uncle's bad side.

It was likely easier said than done.

Uncle Randolph had always been devoted to the chantry, more so than most of her relatives. House Trevelyan had always been known for its piety, at least publically. Under all that of course was a love of strategies and politics. The chantry held the most power in Thedas, so that is where the Trevelyans stayed. Traditionally they gave one child of each generation to the chantry to prove their loyalty. Uncle Randolph was the choice for his, and Ana was resisting becoming the one for hers. Her uncle must see such a post as an honor, but…

She was not Uncle Randolph.

He might have become a brother himself had he not been the only child born of her father's brother. That devotion had always led her uncle to volunteering himself to represent their family at any chantry function.

If he could not serve, at least he could stand with the holy, and be counted. Mother was more than happy to allow this; it was a good move…politically.

In her eyes, that was all that mattered, Ana was there to show the chantry just how serious their family took this matter…

…Even if it was not totally the truth.

Given that the Divine herself had called for this Conclave, Mother had thought it best to do one better than simply sending dear Randolph alone. Her two eldest children were busy of course, her sister learning to run the family, and her brother continuing his studies with the scholar she had hired, it had left only one option to her.

She had decided to send Ana.

_Wasn't that just __**wonderful!**_

Her uncle looked like a child on Satinalia morning, he was grinning widely at the sights around him. To Uncle Randolph this Conclave was likely the greatest event of this age. The Divine had finally decided to take an active hand in ending the chaos which had begun when a mad mage heretic had destroyed the chantry of Kirkwall.

Finally, the Most Holy would end the war, and all of Thedas would return to the light and love of the Maker, or at least that was what her uncle thought.

Ana was not so sure, it seemed where ever a person looked in Thedas these days they saw the horror of war. Mage killed Templar. Templar killed mage. The Trevelyans had been forced to take a ship to Ferelden instead of travelling through Orlais, the civil war there continued to intensify, and mother had feared for her safety.

Orlais fought itself. Templar fought mage. Where ever there was civilization, war followed behind.

Now the chantry had stepped forward calling for an end to it.

The third daughter of House Trevelyan had her doubts.

Ana did not think such matters could be solved at one sit down between the Divine and the faithful. She had never been a girl of great faith, she believed in the Maker sure, but this…this seemed a little bigger than the chantry, much too big in fact.

When Faith met power, power usually won. Those of great faith were useful. They died so that the powerful could reap the benefits. Mother understood that, and sadly so did Ana.

Talking and appealing to people's decency was not enough. The Templars and mages had both tasted power and glory…

And now…they wanted **more**.

There had been too much blood spilled, a simple slap on the wrist by the Most Holy likely would not make the leaders of the various sides see sense.

Still the Divine would no doubt try.

Ana respected that, even if it was a lost cause.

She sighed; Uncle Randolph would probably cuff her if she said such things out loud. His faith in the Divine was absolute. She had always had a problem with such blind loyalty. She thought she was simply being realistic, or perhaps she was just miserable from the long journey.

Yes, that was likely it.

She shivered as she wrapped her fur cloak tighter around herself; their entourage was one of many here in Haven. She spotted clusters of mages, Templars, Seekers, and chantry officials milling about, not to mention a ragtag collection of Fereldan villagers who lived and worked here, attending to the small village's needs.

The young noble shook her head.

_She felt a little sorry for these people, having to live in such a freezing hole._

Her eyes turned to the distant mountain. Somewhere nestled among the peaks was The Temple of Andraste's Ashes, the final resting place of the Maker's bride and chosen. Discovered less than ten years ago, the chantry had descended quickly on this place after the Blight. In less than a decade the village had turned from a hidden enclave to a center of chantry power here in the south.

Her uncle had petitioned the chantry many times to come here on pilgrimage. The sisters had denied those requests. It was not that Randolph was in disfavor, the chantry had simply wanted the time to make this place presentable to all pilgrims, noble or low born.

Ana shook her head.

She did not think that they had succeeded in either endeavor. She had not wanted to come here, but Mother had insisted. She would have much rather remained in Ostwick practicing with her sword or studying in the library.

Anything would have been better than this.

The noble stood before their carriage taking in the "beauty" of Haven. It was little more than wilderness retreat, the smell of wet dog, fur, and lamp oil should have offended her delicate sensibilities.

Fortunately, she was not like that.

She did not like to think she was a complete noble snob. She might have been cold and weary, and she might have not understood how people could choose to live like this, but that did not mean she did not respect their strength for hacking a life here out of the wilderness.

Someone had to do it, she supposed.

She would certainly not have chosen this life, but these people she supposed did not have the options she had, being born wealthy and unnoticed by the powerbrokers in her family.

Ana smiled slightly.

Being the third daughter did have some advantages. While her brother and sister were being prepared to lead their grand house, Ana had been allowed to pursue her own interests. She studied history, focusing on the great warriors of old. She read the tale of the Fifth Blight and the Qunari Invasion of Kirkwall. She also studied arms with Master Geoffrey, House Trevelyan's master of arms. She showed great talent with the sword and buckler he said. Mother thought it odd that she wished to study weapons, thinking that she should spend more time focusing on the politics of Ostwick and finding a match for herself.

None of the noble boys had caught her eye however, when she did look on opposite sex with interest, her taste tended to fall to the more seasoned of men, soldiers, guards and like. Such a match would likely have horrified her dear mother.

Ana did nothing to discourage such worries; it was an acceptable form of rebellion.

"Remain with the guards my dear," Uncle Randolph said, "I'm going to see about finding us lodgings for the night."

He hurried off with a spring in his step.

Again she rolled her eyes.

She doubted a place like this had an inn that catered to noble clientele.

Ana leaned against the carriage, she reached into her bag, pulling out her old lop eared copy of _Hard in Hightown_. Mother frowned on her reading such drivel, but Ana fancied it.

The thought of heroes going outside the chain of command pleased her sensibilities.

She looked up occasionally, watching the various mages and Templars. They glared at each other with barely disguised disdain. Her own guards tensed when any of the two groups got to close. Fortunately the Divine's guards kept any arguments from turning into something worse.

Ana frowned.

You could feel the tension in the air here. It was only out of respect for the Divine that this Conclave was happening, one spark at the wrong time…and this place could turn into a blood bath between the two heated rivals.

Ana hoped they would not get caught in the middle.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed an elven servant, and a Templar speaking quietly with a one of the many sisters clustered in the square. That would not have been strange but if she was not mistaken she saw something pass between the sister and two, coin perhaps.

That got her attention.

Why would a sister need to pay a Templar in coin?

She leaned forward as the sister disappeared back into the alley. She was not like the others who served here, her she wore the seal of the chantry, but her robes appeared more like armor than the vestments of a priest.

She made note to ask her uncle about the mysterious sister later.

When Uncle Randolph finally returned he was more than pleased. He had managed to convince the chantry to offer them a cabin, and tonight they would dine with the administrators of Haven.

Ana almost chuckled.

She could not imagine what it took to be considered worthy of administrating this place. If not for the Temple of Sacred Ashes, no one in Thedas would have cared about this place.

She knew that she certainly did not.

She glanced back to where the legendary temple lay. She supposed that it would be worth it seeing the legendary structure, if for no other reason than to be something to talk about at her family's summer salon.

She smiled slightly.

Now she had to just keep from dying of boredom.

It would be an interesting challenge.

Maker knew; there was not anything else for her to do here.

She doubted that there ever would be.

Period.

Two weeks later, Ana realized just how wrong she was.

The conclave had not been boring…

…and her life was not the same again.

…and it never would be.

**A/N: So what do you thing? I did not want to make Ana too unlikable, next she learns who the mysterious sister was, and faces her own place in destiny. See you all then.**

**DG**


	2. The Most Hated Girl in Thedas

**Chapter 2: The Most Hated Girl in Thedas**

_Wake Up!_

The words had first come to her in a moment of disbelief. She had found herself in a waking nightmare, and wished to escape it, but alas…it was not meant to be.

Those two words quickly turned into a mantra, then a plea. She wanted to wake up. She begged for it. She wished to wake up in that foul smelling cabin that Uncle Randolph had found for them to sleep in. They would have breakfast together and she would tell him about this wild nightmare.

That did not come to pass.

_Wake up._

She still could not believe it.

_Wake up._

The conclave…everyone who had been up there…was now dead.

_Wake up._

Uncle Randolph and the rest of the Trevelyan entourage were dead.

_Wake up._

The leaders of the mages and Templars were dead…

_**WAKE UP!**_

They were all dead, and so was the Divine…

_Maker __**please**__, let this be a bad dream! Let me __**wake up**__!_

And everyone one thought she was to blame.

She Anastasia Aliza Trevelyan, everyone thought that she was a murderer...

And they all demanded to see her punished...

The intense Seeker woman with the short black hair led her into the light. Ana was trying to remember what had happened. The last thing she remembered with any clarity was waking up the morning of the Conclave, of Uncle Randolph threatening to douse her with cold water if she did not hurry.

Ana whimpered.

They had quarreled that morning, her uncle and her, and now…now he was dead.

She would never be able to say she was sorry.

After that…her memory had gone blank. She had no memory of attending the Conclave, the only thing that she could think of was waking in darkness, her noble clothing torn and burnt, those horrible white creatures coming out of the shadows chasing her…

And the woman…the woman in white…glowing like the sun reaching out to her.

Ana had run to her, trying to escape the beasts. She had clawed at the slippery slope of stone trying to reach the woman's hand.

Their fingers had touched…

The world turned white.

The next time she had woken had been in a prison cell beneath the chantry in haven. That is where she learned the Conclave had been destroyed. She…

"AHHHHH!"

Ana fell to her knees, yellow-green magic flame burned in her right hand. It felt hot, cold, and like a sharp blade all at the same time. The pain was so intense, like it wanted to rip her life away.

The seeker woman stopped. She kneeled down beside Ana.

"Every time the breach grows, so does the mark," she informed her, "It is spreading and it will kill you."

Ana gasped as the pain passed, she looked past the Seeker and into the sky. Its azure blue color was torn; clouds swirled around what could only be a hole in the very sky.

She could see the yellow green light shining down, and the islands floating within it.

The Seeker had called it the breach, a tear into the world of demons. The explosion at the Conclave had opened it.

The explosion everyone thought that **she** had caused.

Ana's noble honor bristled slightly from that. She might not be able to remember what had happened, but she knew that she had no reason to destroy the Conclave and murder everyone up there, and besides how could she do it. She was just a simple noble born girl. She had no magic, no special talents…

She was simply…her.

She glared at the warrior woman.

"You think I'm guilty?"

"You were the only survivor, the only suspect," the woman replied.

The mark on Ana's hand flared again. She winced against the pain, but did not stop speaking. She held up her marked hand.

"You think I did this to myself?" she demanded.

"Not intentionally," the Seeker said, "Something obviously went wrong."

Ana rolled her eyes.

_That, in itself was an understatement._

The entire world had apparently gone wrong.

She struggled to her feet. That strange sister she had seen when she first arrived Haven had come to Ana's cell with the seeker, Leliana had been her name. She had found clothes for Ana, a simple shirt and breeches that had likely belonged to one of the chantry soldiers, they did not fit perfect, and the armor was a bit heavy, but at least they had not dragged her out into the snow in her burned ragged dress.

"Where are you taking me?" the noble demanded.

"You will see," the Seeker said, drawing a dagger.

Ana flinched, fearing the woman might cut her for her insolence.

The Seeker reached out and cut the ropes binding Ana's hands.

"You need to see what I have to show you," the Seeker said, "Come."

Ana followed along beside her, not that she had much choice.

Apparently none of them did anymore.

IOI

Cassandra led the girl past the terrified refugees and soldiers from Haven, by now everyone knew about the girl, and what she had been accused of doing.

They watched the two women as they passed, angry mutters filled the air, and they stared at the girl like she was vile thing, a wounded darkspawn in their midst…

The Seeker frowned.

No, she realized, a darkspawn would have elicited fear, and made the people keep their distance, these people hated the girl, and wished to see her pay for the losses they had all suffered.

Cassandra understood their pain, she felt it as well.

The Divine was dead, everyone was dead.

Her brow furrowed, she wanted to see the girl pay as well.

The survivor, this…Anastasia Trevelyan hurried to keep up with her; she could no doubt see and hear the people around her, and no doubt understood what fate awaited her if she fell behind. The girl looked pale and sickly the strange magic in her hand continued to grow, if it was not stopped, she would likely not live to stand trial for her crimes.

If the strange magic did not kill her, the faithful of Thedas surely would.

Her prisoner understood that, she stayed close to her escort.

"They hate me," she heard the girl murmur, "They…they would rip me apart if you weren't here."

"They have already decided your guilt," Cassandra replied, "They all mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the chantry."

Her hands clenched in impotent rage. If only Leliana had permitted her to slay the girl in her cell…?

_You need to think before you act Cassandra. You are __**too **__brash._

Byron's words, spoken so long ago, gave her pause. Her trainer and mentor had been one of the finest Seekers in the order. She was still trying to live up his memory, to honor him.

Byron would not have slain the girl until he understood what had happened. She needed to know, they all needed to know, and if what that apostate that had examined the mark was right, if what he said was true.

It was a chance they could not pass up.

Cassandra glanced again at her unwilling charge. The girl looked like she would run at the first opportunity. Cassandra rested her hand on the hilt of her sword.

The girl would not run; she would make sure of that.

"I will protect you," she promised, "As long as you are in my charge, you are safe."

"And what happens after?" the girl hissed.

"You will be given a trial. I can promise no more."

"A **fair** trial?" the girl inquired, fear and sarcasm mixing with equal measure.

Cassandra considered the girl's words. She knew the chantry; she had spent her life serving it.

They were looking for someone to blame, they needed it, and to prove that they still held power they would dispense justice swiftly and without mercy. The people would demand it.

A fair trial for the girl? Cassandra did not think so, but she still needed her cooperation.

The Seeker did not even look at her.

"We shall see," she answered.

The girl fell silent. They hurried past the guards and survivors from Haven.

They needed to reach the rift that Leliana's scouts had discovered, and from there the forward base camp.

Then they would see.

Then they would know.

IOI

Before today Ana had never seen a demon, she never thought she would.

Part of her wished she hadn't.

The bridge that they had been walking on collapsed after being struck by a fireball from the breach. She and the seeker had been dumped onto the surface of a frozen stream.

Ana groaned as the Seeker struggled to her feet, two glowing shapes appeared before them. The glow faded, and in its wake was a creature out of her darkest nightmares.

It looked like a living shadow with long fingers and hook-like claws, a single baleful eye glared at her from beneath what looked like an old leather hood.

A shade she had heard the warrior woman call it. The seeker flung herself at one of the beasts.

The second slithered towards Ana. The noble woman yelped, and tried to crawl away.

The demon picked up speed; she was almost paralyzed with fear.

Almost.

Her questing fingers found something metal; she looked down, a long sword, likely lost by one of the poor guards on the bridge.

The demon was upon her.

Ana shrieked.

Her training took over.

The demon had not been ready for a fight.

That was a fatal mistake.

With a move that would have made her old weapon master proud, Ana whirled her sword; the blade caught the demon's clawed hands, severing them neatly at the wrists.

The Shade wailed and trying to retreat. Ana did not let it. Fury and fear turned into cold tactics. She lunged forward, burying her blade deep into the demon's face.

The creature crumbled to ash, but not before spitting black ichor on her face. She gasped and staggered back.

"Maker," she spat, "EUCH!"

She wiped at her face, she turned to see that the Seeker had already dealt with her opponent.

The warrior woman's sword was still drawn however.

It was now pointed at Ana's chin.

"Drop your sword," the woman demanded, "NOW!"

Ana swallowed hard. She was not so foolish as to believe she could defeat a chantry Seeker in single combat.

"Sure," she said, letting the blade fall from her fingers, "I just needed to defend myself that shade…"

The Seeker's eyes softened. She lowered her blade.

"Wait," she said.

Ana paused.

The woman sighed.

"I cannot expect you to go into danger unprotected. Clearly, I cannot do it alone."

She motioned to the sword.

"Bring it, you may need it."

Ana sighed and complied, she also spotted a small wooden buckler, she picked that up to. She twirled the sword getting used to the weight.

She smiled slightly.

"I'm ready," she said.

The seeker nodded.

"I will remember that you did not try to run," the warrior woman said.

A nervous laugh bubbled up in Ana's throat.

If the warrior woman did not intimidate her so much, she might have managed some sarcastic comment, but in the end she only managed:

"Thanks, I think."

IOI

The two women reached the forward base camp, and found it under attack. A strange glowing crystal-like thing floated in the air before the gates, glowing fire spat as it shrank and expanded, and every time it expanded a new demon appeared.

Cassandra took the lead; she roared a challenge and attacked.

Ana was two steps behind her.

Ghostly shapes shooting fire from their fingers blasted away at the two women. Ana broke away from her escort, she angled her shield to meet the blasts, and they would have forced her back if she was not so determined.

Her eyes narrowed with fury.

Bastards, she thought, demonic bastards.

She fell upon the wraiths like a terror.

They tried to float back, but she would not let them, her blade was there to block them, and to end them when they fell into her range.

All the fear and hopelessness she had been feeling since waking in that cell turned to anger. The chantry would likely kill her for what had happened to the Divine. She could not do anything about this, but these demons…

She could send a few back to the void before then.

"GIRL!"

She felt someone grab her wrist; she almost battered the hand away.

He forced to hold her palm up towards the crystal-thing.

Ana gasped.

Magic poured from her marked hand.

It struck the crystal thing, it stopped growing, it….shuddered, and slowly…began to shrink.

Ana blinked.

It felt…strange, the burning pain ceased, it felt…it felt like a poison being leeched from her body. She felt it tugging at her.

She tugged back.

When Ana was a girl, she had seen a loose thread hanging on one of the tapestries in her family's estate. She had pulled on it, wondering what would happen.

Her tutor had stopped her but not before she had unwound a good inch of the tapestry. That is what this felt like, like she was pulling on that thread again, only this time she did not stop, she did not want to.

She made a fist and yanked.

The air around the thing popped.

It vanished, as it had never been there.

Ana gasped, she felt winded.

What in Andraste's name was that?!

She turned to the man who had grabbed her wrist, she was surprised to see that he was an elf, pale skinned and bald headed he did not look like a mere servant. He carried a staff, and had a pleased smile on his face.

She looked at him.

"What did you do?" she asked.

The elf chuckled.

"I did nothing," he answered in a cultured voice, "You however…just sealed that rift, congratulations."

Ana looked down at her hand, the pain was returning, but it did not seem as bad as before.

The Seeker came up beside him.

"It seems that you were right Solas," she said, "The girl's mark does have the power to close the rifts."

The elf, Solas nodded.

"Wait," Ana said, "You know what this is? You knew what it could do?"

"I had a theory," he said.

"Solas is an apostate," the Seeker said, "He has a great understanding of the fade."

"More than any circle mage anyway," the elf said, it did not sound like he was bragging.

He turned to Ana.

"When the chantry soldiers found you, I was permitted to examine your mark, the magic comes from the breach. It is bound to the breach, and through it the rifts."

He gave her a small smile.

"I did what I could to stabilize your condition."

She heard a small chuckle behind her; it came from a blonde haired dwarf in a duster coat. He carried a strange looking crossbow.

He smirked at her.

"What Solas means kiddo," he said, "Is that he kept that thing from consuming you while you slept."

Ana looked down at the mark, she turned to Solas.

"I…I do not know what to say…thank you."

"It was what was needed," he replied.

He turned to the Seeker.

"Lady Cassandra," he said to her, "As you can see this girl can help us. She is no mage; I can't imagine that any mage would play with this kind of power. Still, the magic within her mark can seal rifts, if we got her closer to the breach itself…"

Cassandra nodded grimly.

"We could seal the breach itself, and end this madness."

The dwarf chuckled again.

"That is good," he said, "And here I thought we would be ass-deep in demons forever."

He turned to Ana, offering his hand.

"Varric Tethras, businessman, rogue, story teller, and sometimes…"

He winked at Cassandra.

"…Unwilling travelling companion."

The Seeker glared at him.

"Ana," the noble said offering him her hand.

He moved to take it…

The mark on it flared, spitting yellow and green sparks.

Varric jumped back.

"Whoa there kiddo, other hand if you please."

_Whoops._

Ana gulped, she blushed slightly.

"Right…sorry."

She shook the dwarf's hand.

"Are you with the chantry," she asked.

Solas laughed.

"Is that a serious question," he asked.

Varric chuckled.

"Technically, I'm a prisoner," he said, "I guess we got that in common."

"I brought Varric here to testify before the Divine," the Seeker said, "That is a moot point now."

"Good thing you did," he said, "You could use an extra hand."

The Seeker shook her head.

"Your help was appreciated Varric, but…"

"Have you seen the valley lately Seeker?" he asked, "Your soldiers are not in control here anymore."

He gave her a smile that was almost lecherous.

"You need me."

Cassandra snorted.

"Ugh," she said turning away.

She turned to the gates before them, the guards were still tending the wounded, but they paused when they saw her.

"THE DANGER HAS PASSED," she said, "Open the gate!"

The doors swung open.

She turned to Ana, Solas, and Varric.

"Come," she said, "Leliana is waiting for us."

Solas fell in step behind her, leaving Varric and Ana alone.

The dwarf shrugged.

"Well," he shrugged, "Bianca is excited."

He followed their…companions.

Ana shook her head, still trying to make sense of this. Perhaps she was still hoping this was a dream.

That she would wake up, and have to listen to one of Uncle Randolph's lectures.

Wake up.

She sighed.

She did not think that she was that lucky.

She glanced down at her hand, the strange glowing yellow green light coming from the mark there.

She shook her head and hurried after the Seeker, after Cassandra. The soldiers were glaring at her again.

She did not want to take the chance that some faithful might decide to save the chantry a chance to put her on trial.

Her life had become so wonderful lately.

She sighed, grateful to be around people that did not want her head.

A small victory was better than none.

She looked at the dwarf.

"Uh, Varric?"

"Yeah Kiddo?"

"Um…who is Bianca?"


	3. Stories

**Chapter 3: Stories**

Word of the Conclave's destruction and the opening of the breach spread like wildfire. All of Thedas reeled from the news, and to make matters worse, smaller breaches had begun to appear across the land, demons began to enter the world with impunity.

The chantry tried its best to reassure the people, but with the Divine dead, and so many of her strongest allies dead. The remaining mothers could do little to turn the tide of panic that now ran rampant among the faithful. More than a few demanded that the Templar order return to the fold, all of Thedas needed to walk in the Maker's light again if they intended to surviving this growing darkness…

Some Templars did return to Val Royeaux, the rest…did not listen.

Both Templar and mage blamed the other for the Divine's death. The war between the two intensified, but with so many of their own leaders dead the battles quickly devolved into free for alls. Mages and Templars fought each other, while attacking those they thought to be sympathizers to their rivals, or simply to steal supplies.

To many, it seemed like the end of the world. Panicked refugees fled their homes trying to escape the fighting, to escape the Templars, mages, demons, and criminals that were seeking to take advantage of the chaos. The chantry continued to plead for restraint, but it appeared that no one was listening to the voices out of Val Royeaux any longer…

But even in darkness…some hope remained.

Another story began to spread.

The Divine's closest advisors had left the chantry. They could no longer tolerate the chaos around them, or the inaction of the mothers. Ravens flew from Haven to all corners of Orlais and Ferelden, summoning the faithful to a call of arms. The Divine it seemed had left one final directive. The Conclave had been her last hope to resolve the matter of the Templars and mages peacefully…

Now…with Justinia's death, it was time for something more pro-active.

At chantries across Ferelden and Orlais notes were nailed to doors, the faithful got their first look at the Divine's final directive.

The Declaration of the Inquisition began to spread.

Cassandra Pentaghast put out a call to all who sought to see order restored in the world. They asked that anyone, Templar, mage, warrior, or rogue travel to Haven to join the cause. They would restore order and they would seal the breach, and to any of those who doubted that the breach could be sealed, came yet another story, the story of the lone survivor of the Conclave. The story of a young girl who had stepped out of the fade, guided by a mysterious woman in white, the same young girl who had risked her life to stop the expansion of the breach, touched by fate and Andraste's hand.

The Herald of Andraste had come, and her name was Anastasia Trevelyan.

The Mothers in Val Royeaux called such tales blasphemy. They accused Seeker Pentaghast and the enigmatic sister Nightingale of attempting to seize power for themselves, that this…Herald was both a puppet and a false prophet, that she had murdered the Divine and would lead the faithful only to damnation. They declared the members of the Inquisition heretics and for the faithful to deliver the Trevelyan girl to the capital for execution.

Alas, no one seemed to be listening. The mothers continued to receive updates from Roderick, Justinia's chancellor. He continued to preach the virtues of chantry rule in Haven, and the need to see the Divine's murderer punished. The people however were not listening, the soldiers that had followed Seeker Pentaghast and Lady Trevelyan into the ruins of the temple of sacred ashes had seen to that.

The ruins were the sight of a massacre, the bodies of the dead frozen in shapes of agony, the lyrium that had once run through the temple like veins had become corrupted as well, great red crystals rose from the shatter stone, causing all around them to hear singing and strange whispers.

The spirits that swirled around the breach reenacted the Divine's final moments, Justinia restrained by a shadowy figure, calling for her sacrifice, and at that moment of dark triumph, an innocent girl had entered, summoned by the Divine's plea for aid. The shadowy villain had called for her death, but even he could not stop the will of Andraste.

The soldiers that had found Trevelyan claimed to have seen a glowing woman standing in the rift that the Trevelyan girl had appeared out of; they claimed to have felt peace and love in her presence.

Many claimed that it was Andraste herself that she had decided to act for the people she had died to save so long ago.

Those soldiers had seen Ana reach out with her mark. They had seen her try to seal the breach. A pride demon had stepped through trying to prevent it, but even that powerful demon could not stand against Andraste's chosen.

Anastasia Trevelyan had **not** sealed the breach, but she **had** stabilized it, no more demons fell upon Haven.

With that one act, the girl had gone from murderer to savior. A savior that now stood with the new Inquisition.

A beacon of hope in a dark world, this was the view that Leliana, also known as Sister Nightingale, spread to all who would hear it.

The tale of her actions spread before the Inquisition. They did not even have a true army yet, and already their influence was being felt.

In the corridors of power, leaders discussed this girl and the Inquisition. Some looked with fear, others with greed, there was opportunity in chaos.

As for the herald, she remained in Haven, recovering from the explosion and the battle afterwards.

Many were asking who was she; did she truly have the Maker's favor?

Could she **truly **save them all?

Many had their doubts, among them a singular young woman.

Her name was Ana Trevelyan.

IOI

Varric Tethras made his way down the streets of Haven, his boots crunching in the snow. The dwarven rogue shook his head at the sights around him. The population of the little village had doubled since Sister Leliana had sent out the call for the Inquisition.

The faithful arrived with either a lot or very little, some brought carts loaded with goods to help support the cause, others came with just the clothes on their backs, eager to serve the Maker, and his bride's herald.

Varric, always the storyteller, listened closely to the new arrivals, he understood the value of information, and he was always fishing for ideas for his next book.

These new arrivals had much to say.

_Have you seen her, the Herald?_

_Not yet, but she is here, I saw her talking to the Commander._

_Do you really believe the tales?_

_Of course, Andraste would not leave us to suffer needlessly._

_They say that our prophet plucked her right out of the world of the dead, that she carried her out of the fade._

_She must be a woman of great faith to have earned Andraste's favor._

_She must be. Andraste gave her the ability to close the rifts. I saw it, holy light shining in her fist._

_We are blessed._

_Praise Andraste._

_Praise her Herald._

Varric shook his head.

Poor Ana.

He had spoken only a little with the girl since they had met on the mountain. It had been nice to speak with a fellow marcher after being around so many Orlesians and Fereldans.

She had been keeping to herself since Cassandra and Leliana had declared their holy war.

He had been meaning to speak with the seeker, despite their rather…unusual introduction, he found that she did listen when he said something.

Everyone was so interested in what the Herald of Andraste meant for the cause.

No one had asked what **she** thought of all this.

The dwarf frowned.

It wasn't right, Ana was just a kid. She was a child, now she was being used as a figure head for this whole damn Inquisition. The Seeker had painted a target on her chest.

Varric had spent enough time around people wanting to be martyrs. Blondie had died because he had wanted this; he wanted this chaos and destruction. He had thought it would lead to a new future for his people.

All Varric had seen come out of it, was death. The powerful had blamed Anders for what had happened, but Anders was dead, he could not be punished again. Ana however was still breathing.

It was only a matter of time before people started taking shots at the poor girl.

It wasn't fair, not to her, or to all these people who had flocked to her banner.

It wasn't fair…period.

That was why he was out here on this cold night.

He did not want to speak with the Herald of Andraste.

He wanted to speak with Ana Trevelyan.

It was not hard to find the poor girl. The looks of wonder and hushed awed whispers were better than any trail of breadcrumbs. She had retreated to her cabin for the night. Two of the faithful stood near if she needed anything.

Varric did not wait for one of them to announce him, or some other stupid shit like that.

He knocked on the door.

_Here goes nothing,_ he thought.

IOI

Ana looked at the blank piece of parchment before her, her lips held in a tight frown, she had been sitting here for almost an hour now, trying to write this simple letter.

She was having little success; of course this letter was far from simple.

Speaking with her mother was never a simple thing.

Lady Aliza Amelia Trevelyan had no doubt heard about the Conclave by now, not to mention all the other stories that had filtered out since. The Trevelyans had always been a power in Ostwick and with their close connection to the chantry…

Ana's frown deepened.

_What did her mother think now? What did she think of her daughter, the accused heretic…?_

…_The Herald of Andraste._

The first time she had heard that name was during the most recent war council. Lady Montilyet, the Inquisition's ambassador had been spreading that title among her noble contacts. Sister Leliana meanwhile had her agents passing Ana's tale at every tavern and inn between Denerim and Val Royeaux, how Ana had survived the Conclave explosion, and how she had sealed the rift in the temple of sacred ashes…

The two women seemed intent on making her the public face of this Inquisition that the Maker had chosen her…**her** to be the symbol that rallied the faithful to their cause.

The very thought of the idea made Ana pale.

_Did the two women not realize how maddening this sounded?_

_Did they not realize who it was they were talking about?_

After the war council Ana had just made it to the nearest dark alley before she had to throw up. The weight of what the Inquisition expected threatened to crush her.

_Maker save me,_ she thought, _I'm __**doomed**__._

She retreated to her cabin; she tried to ignore the looks she was receiving. The people of Haven no longer looked at her like a hated criminal. They had hope in their eyes. One or two or two of them even came up to her, asking for a blessing, **her** blessing. It sounded so ridiculous that she almost had not done it, but in the end she had conceded. The people here in Haven had lost so much; she did not dare take away their hope…

They all expected her to save them.

Yet, she did not have the slightest idea how to do that.

She got off the street quickly, not wishing to be subjected to anymore hero worship. She needed to be alone.

She needed to figure out what the fuck she was going to do.

Once she was safe behind a locked door, she felt at least a little better. The panic she had felt out in the street subsided to a more acceptable level.

She needed to speak with someone, but had no idea who. Who would let her be herself and not some…some…holy herald?

She had sat down, tried to compose a letter to her family. Explain to her Mother what had happened.

She wanted to explain…everything.

Mother needed to know that this was not Ana's idea. She was staying because she wanted to help, because the mark on her hand could close the rifts.

Beyond that, everything else was just posturing, and politics.

Mother would understand that she thought.

Lady Aliza knew a lot about politics.

Of course, once she had sat down, once she had parchment, quill, and ink, she found that her mind had gone blank.

How could she explain all this?

She did not understand herself.

How does one explain what had happened?

How…how could she even put it into words that made it sound less like a crazed lie…?

…or…a miracle.

Frustration burned in her gut, she almost threw the ink well against the wall.

She did not want to be Andraste's Herald!

Was she tough, organized, was she one of the true believers?

No.

She believed in the Maker, and she sang the chant at services, but she…

She was not one of the devoted. Maker's breath, she had spent the last few months trying to stay out of a chantry habit. She was the absolute last person that either the Maker or Andraste should have chosen.

There had been so many pious and righteous people at the Conclave, so many brave souls who would have happily embraced this calling.

Uncle Randolph would have been better suited for this, than her.

Yet, here she sat, while all those people remained dead.

Why had she been spared?

Why was she so special?

Why?!

She never asked for this, and she didn't want it.

Any of it!

Her eyes stung with unshed tears. She…so many had died at the Conclave. She was no better than any of them!

She was nothing special.

She feared what would happen when all of Thedas realized that.

A knock at her door shook her from her musings.

She sighed, forcing her temper back down.

If this was something asking for a blessing or some other religious thing, she was not going to be pleased.

"Yes," she called out.

"It's Varric, kiddo," she heard through the door, "Mind if I come in?"

Ana wiped at her face, she did not wish for Varric to see how close she had been to tears.

Of all of her new companions, she liked the dwarf the best. She respected Solas. What he knew of magic and the fade was incredible, she had spent several of the last few nights just listening to him. Lady Cassandra shamed her with her strength, courage, and virtue. Ana just spent her days trying not to piss the warrior woman off.

Varric was…reachable. It was nice to have a fellow Marcher here in Haven, and he did not look at her like she was some… reborn savior.

Around the dwarf, she could be herself. She could be Ana.

She hurried to the door.

She needed to be just Ana right now.

IOI

The two of them sat at the small table in Ana's cabin, two cups of tea sat in front of them.

They sat in silence; Ana held the large cup with both hands, as if she could absorb the warmth.

Again Varric felt a pang of pity; the girl looked far younger in that moment than she had up on the mountain. She wore no armor and carried no weapons; just a simple silk shirt and breaches covered her form.

Ana…she wasn't what most people would call beautiful; she wasn't an Isabela or Sister Leliana. She was…cute, that was about it. Men wouldn't go to war in lust filled rages for her, but they would likely stay close, wanting to see what else this sweet little thing had to offer.

The dwarf almost laughed. Rivaini would have viewed the girl as a challenge. Someone worthy of seduction, she would be eager to try and corrupt the noble girl.

No she was not a ravishing beauty, but she had strength, he had seen that in the mountain pass, and again in the ruins of the temple of sacred ashes.

She was cute, but she was also complicated…

From her right hand still emerged a small yellow-green light, the same light that the people had been forced to get so used these last few weeks.

The breach never slept; day and night it spilled its unearthly aura down on Thedas. Even in now, in the darkest of nights the village of Haven was caught in its glow.

The dwarf frowned.

"How's the hand?" he asked her.

IOI

Ana sniffed and held it up for him to see, the small glowing crack in her palm.

She turned it to her face; she looked sadly down upon it. She had tried wearing gloves but the glow still shown through.

"It no longer hurts," she admitted with a tired sigh, "And at least it is not growing any longer."

She sat down picked up her cup again, though she made no attempt to drink.

"It is just another reminder of how messed up everything is."

The dwarf snorted.

"That is an understatement and a half," he agreed, "You seem to be handling all this well, but it can't be easy to deal with in such a short time. I mean you went from the most hated criminal in Thedas to joining the armies of the faithful. That is a lot to swallow in only a few days."

Ana gave him a wry smile.

IOI

"I should probably count my blessings," the girl replied, "Chancellor Roderick won't be dragging me back to Val Royeaux anytime soon, and with everyone in the village thinking that I'm some sort of savior. He isn't going to have any help doing so, not from Haven anyway."

Varric nodded.

He had seen the chantry man walking around. He watched what the Inquisition was trying to accomplish with barely disguised disdain. He had made no attempt to hide his belief that everything that was happening here in haven was a mistake.

The chantry might send people to aid him, eventually, but with so many Templars tied up fighting the mages, it was unlikely any military support would come from that source.

"I have been meaning to ask you," he began, "Now that Cassandra is out of earshot, are you okay?"

The noble woman gave him a shy smile.

"It is sweet of you to worry master dwarf."

Varric chuckled.

"Don't read too much into it kiddo. I spent a lot of time the last few years in the company of heroes. I've seen things fall apart pretty fast and the length people go to try and put it right, but this…this is different."

He pointed out the window, the strange green glow shone brightly through the cabin's tiny window.

The dwarf sighed heavily.

"The hole in the sky, **that** is beyond heroes. Heroes are everywhere, I've seen that in my travels, but this…this…needs something more."

He gave her a hopeful look.

"We need a miracle."

Ana's eyes narrowed; clearly what he said had upset her.

"So you came here looking for some kind of reassurance, like everyone else?"

"I just came here to talk," he replied.

His words did little to cool her temper.

"Ever since I helped seal that rift in the temple ruins people have been looking at me like I have all the answers, or can find them. They think that Andraste is just going to reach down and save us all, or that she is going to reveal to me at the last moment some grand plan.

The noble woman peered down into her tea, staring at her reflection in its calm surface.

"I'll be honest with you master dwarf," she began, "I **don't** know what is going to happen. I don't know how to seal the breach or save this world. Everyone in this place looks at me like I'm some kind of holy…knowledgeable thing, but I'm just as confused and frightened as everyone else."

Varric nodded.

"Does that mean you are planning to give up then?"

"Of course not."

Does that mean you are **not** going to seal up anymore rifts when they appear.

"Of course not, I'll go where I'm needed. I gave my word, and…"

The dwarf smirked at her.

It only served to infuriate her further.

"What?" she demanded.

"Nothing."

"It is **not**, nothing, Varric. Tell me what is so damn amusing."

His smile widened.

"I've had a lot of dealings with nobles over the year's kiddo. Most of the ones I knew wouldn't stick their neck out for anyone but themselves…"

He reached out to her placing his hand on top of hers; there was nothing romantic in the move, merely a friend offering support to another.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"You might not be some holy hero, like everyone else is saying, but…you are a hero, people are going to be drawn to that. If you truly want to help, let people believe what they want to believe. If you give them hope, then you have already done more than what you expected, trust me."

She smiled slightly at him.

"Even if what they believe is making driving me mad?"

He chuckled again.

"Especially if it is driving you mad, or even making you mad. A symbol can be a powerful thing kiddo. Sister Leliana understands that, and so does the chantry."

He lightly patted her hand.

"Just be yourself, everything else will follow."

IOI

Ana considered his words they made sense in a way.

If the people needed her to be the herald, then perhaps that is what she should do. Even if she went into a troubled area sealing rifts and waving the Inquisition flag, that might still do much to helping their cause.

She still needed to be careful though. She needed to be herself, if she allowed all this herald shit to go to her head.

She had no intention of taking Justinia's place, and at the same time she did not want to turn into some religious fanatic, thinking that she could do whatever she wanted because Andraste favored her. She needed to stay focused and keep both feet on the ground.

"Any other advice master dwarf?"

Varric's face turned serious.

"You might want to think about running at some point though. I've written enough tragedies over the years to know how stories like yours end. Just be ready to step aside when the time comes, it will be better for you in the long run."

It was strange advice she thought, but then again Varric had seen things she had not. She had heard rumors that he had travelled with Hawke, the legendary Champion of Kirkwall.

If half of what she had heard about the champion was true…

…perhaps the dwarf's advice made sense.

"Stay me, be prepared to run…got it."

"Good," the dwarf said with a grin, "When you try to run though, make sure that Cassandra is not around, she can be a bit…tenacious trust me."

She chuckled.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Good kiddo," he said, "very good indeed."


	4. The Boy in the Blue Robes

**Chapter 4: The Boy in the Blue Robes**

It **began** in the Hinterlands.

Following the destruction of the Conclave, many of the mages and Templars fell back through the Hinterlands, the area just outside of Redcliffe village. Their leaders had been slain at the Conclave with the Divine and both groups now found themselves rudderless, with no one to keep them in check; it was only a matter of time before the war began again in earnest. Templars fought mage, and mage fought Templar, with Fereldan refugees caught in the middle.

The people of the Hinterlands had suffered much in the last decade, first the Blight a decade ago, and now this. The leaderless rivals cared nothing for the welfare of these poor souls. Mages that had sworn to serve now fell upon the fleeing peasants, fearing them Templar spies and informers. Templars did the same fearing these people mage sympathizers and sellswords. Both sides were more than willing to raid the small camps of refugees for supplies, eager to keep themselves resupplied so they could continue their war, and if that was not enough, bandits, realizing that no guards patrolled the roads, found easy prey among the terrified Fereldans. Death and suffering was everywhere.

It was the perfect place for the Inquisition to begin their campaign

Scouts from Haven struck quickly, clearing the roads of enemy combatants. Their leader, a young dwarven woman named Harding directed her efforts at aiding the refugees. Though not large in numbers the Inquisition forces had allowed the fleeing Fereldans to reach the crossroads, a small settlement just outside of Redcliffe.

Harding sent a raven back to Haven. Among the refugees was a chantry mother named Gisele, she had been a friend of the late Divine Justinia, and was said to be a pragmatic sort.

She was curious about this Inquisition and their Herald of Andraste.

She requested an audience with the girl.

Harding was not authorized to grant such a meeting. So she sent word to Seeker Pentaghast and Sister Nightingale. A chantry mother willing to speak to them was an unusual thing to be sure.

The leadership would need to decide what to do.

Then the Inquisition could make its next move.

IOI

Cassandra Pentaghast led a small company of soldiers into the Hinterlands; at her side were Varric, Solas, and Ana.

The warrior woman glared at the destruction around them. The mages and Templars had wasted no time in renewing hostilities against each other.

They would put a stop to that soon enough.

This mission had two objectives, find Mother Gisele, and secure the crossroads against any further attacks.

She glanced at their Herald. Ana seemed tense…she was dressed in a suit of fine armor, a sword and buckler bearing Inquisition heraldry graced her arms.

The girl looked a little green, but seemed ready for combat.

Cassandra said nothing, she had promised Leliana and Ambassador Josephine that she would keep an eye on the girl, that she would keep her safe.

Not an easy thing in the middle of a war zone.

After touching base with Harding, they made their way to the crossroads. They arrived to find the place in chaos. Mages and Templars were attacking. They struck at both the crossroads and at each other.

The rivals noticed that approaching Inquisition forces.

"WE ARE NOT TEMPLARS," she called out to the rebel mages, "WE MEAN YOU NO HARM LOWER YOUR WEAPONS!"

"WE ARE NOT APOSTATES," Solas added to the Templars, "WE ARE INQUISITION FORCES SEEKING TO AID THE REFUGEES. WE MEAN YOU NO HARM!"

Arrows and fireballs flew at the advancing Inquisition.

"I don't think they care," she heard Varric snort.

Cassandra snorted with irritation.

_Fools,_ she thought.

She drew her sword.

_If that was the way they wanted it, __**fine!**_

"INQUISITION," She called out, "SECURE THE CROSSROADS! SLAY ANY WHO ATTACK YOU! DO NOT HARM THE REFUGEES!"

A war cry went up from her soldiers.

"Oh Maker," she heard Ana, whimper.

She looked at the Herald, the girl looked terrified. She gripped her weapons tightly.

"Stay close to Varric and Solas Herald," she ordered, "They will keep you safe."

Ana nodded nervously.

Cassandra raised her sword, her old battlecry of 'For the Chantry' on her lips but quickly fell silent.

This was **not** for the chantry, this was for something more.

"FOR THE INQUISITION," she cried out, "FOR ORDER!"

"FOR ORDER!" her men roared.

A horn sounded.

The Inquisition charged.

The battle was joined.

The war to restore order in a world gone mad had begun.

The Inquisition had truly begun.

IOI

Two hours later the swords had been sheathed. The last of the bodies dragged away.

Cassandra wiped at the sweat on her brow, the blood of her foes stained her armor. She looked for her companions.

Solas was aiding the wounded. She spotted Varric moving among the dead, checking for anything they might find useful, clues to the apostates and Templars bases of operations in the area. They…

The warrior woman paused.

Where was the Herald?

She cursed.

If the girl had been killed during the fighting?

No she refused to believe it.

She stalked through the battlefield. Checking their wounded, hopefully the girl would be among them.

If she was dead…any chance they had to seal the breach was gone. They…

Wait…there she was.

Cassandra almost sighed with relief.

Fool girl, what was she doing so far away from Varric and Solas.

The Herald stood alone, her weapons held loosely in her grip. She was looking down at a dead mage. She seemed entranced by the body.

Cassandra went to her. She knew immediately that something was wrong; the girl's posture was too rigid. She seemed lost.

"Herald?" she called out.

The girl jumped, her weapons came up. Cassandra paused; the girl looked ready to attack in panic.

"The battle is over Herald," she said raising her empty hands, "We have won."

The girl's weapons lowered slightly, she seemed to be more aware.

"Won?" she murmured.

""Yes," Cassandra said softly, "We have won; you can sheath your sword."

The girl obeyed, but slowly almost mechanically.

That worried the warrior woman.

The men could not see her like this.

She gently took the girl aside, pulling her into the shade of a tree. The herald's eyes never left the dead mage.

The look on her face concerned Cassandra; she had seen the girl strike down shades and wraiths without batting an eyelash.

Why was this so different?

Once they were alone she forced the girl to look at her.

"What is wrong Herald?" she demanded."

The noble whimpered.

"I…I killed him."

"The mage?" Cassandra asked, "So you did what of it?"

A nervous giggle bubbled from the girl's throat.

It was not a good sign.

It was not a good sign at all.

IOI

Ana wasn't really seeing the Seeker right now, even if she was standing right in front of her. No, she did not really see the warrior woman at all.

All her focus was on the dead boy laying in the dirt, the boy with the blue robes.

She…she had killed him. She…she…had…

It had happened so fast.

Ana remembered hearing the war horn, she remembered hearing the cry go up from the men around her.

They had all charged.

"Stay close to me Kiddo," she heard Varric say bringing up Bianca to his shoulder, the crossbow coughed death.

She felt her skin prickle as Solas summoned defensive spells around them. Cassandra and the others leapt into the heart of the fighting.

Ana's heart pounded in her chest. All the color drained from her cheeks.

This…this was not like the battle back in Haven those had been demons…monsters. This…this was something different.

These…these were people, living breathing people.

People they had come to kill.

They would **have** to kill them.

She drew her sword as her trainers had taught her, she raised her shield. She needed to trust in her training, all her teachers had told her that, but this was different. This was war.

She would have to kill, but…

Ana Trevelyan had never killed anyone. She…she wasn't sure if she…

A fireball exploded near them, knocking her and her companions to the ground.

Ana's head rang; her training got her moving quickly. She saw Solas trying to stand. Varric was rolling around on the ground trying to put out the fire on his duster coat.

A mage and a few of their sell swords emerged from the tree line.

They were advancing on the Inquisition's position.

They were coming to kill them.

Ana's training took over.

Inquisition soldiers ran to their aid.

Ana joined them.

She did not think. She did not feel. If she did she likely would have frozen up.

The soldiers clashed with the mage's guards. That left the mage for Ana.

She made for him like an arrow.

Another fire ball spat from the hooded figure's staff. She dodged it and pressed on. One foot in front of the other, she advanced.

A jet of freezing cold shot from the mage's fingertips, her shield caught the brunt of it covering in white ice and frost. The cold was so intense; she could feel it through her gauntlet.

She pushed on.

She closed the gap between herself and the mage in blue. He twirled his staff.

The battle was joined.

Ana's sword met his staff, sparks flashed from the impact. The mage back pedaled trying to cast another spell.

She did not let him. She thrust out with her shield. It struck the mage's staff at a weird angle.

The staff flew from his grip, unarmed the mage tried to turn and run.

She did not let him.

She struck him with shield knocking him to the ground.

The mage's hood came down; she saw his eyes wide with fear.

"I surrender," he shouted, "Wait! Please!"

She had heard him…

…but she had **not** stopped.

Her blade was already coming down.

It pierced the boy's heart; he coughed blood splattering her face and armor...

Ana's eyes widened in horror.

A boy, she thought…

He…he is just a boy.

The face staring back at her was young, younger than her, sixteen perhaps, maybe seventeen?

He coughed once more; a pathetic whimper escaped his lips.

The mage died right in front of her.

_I surrender!_

His words haunted her.

_Wait!_

Why had she not stopped?

_Please!_

Why had she not stopped?

IOI

Cassandra looked at the girl. She was clearly in shock; it was a look she had seen many times in the past.

The faces of so many Seeker recruits danced through her mind. Young men and women who had had their first taste of battle. Boys and girls forced to grow up so quickly…

…Forced to deal with death for the first time.

Their first kill.

She…she had not expected this of the Herald, but perhaps she should have. The girl was noble born; she had likely led a charmed life before this.

The girl was pale, her eyes wide with guilt and shock.

"I…I killed him Seeker," she murmured, looking down at the blood on her hands.

"I killed that boy."

"It…it is all right," Cassandra said softly.

"You did what you had to do."

The herald looked down at her gauntlets the blood spattered there, she tore them off.

"He surrendered," she hissed, "He lost his weapon! I had him disarmed. He was pleading with me!"

"Yet in the heat of battle you still killed him?" Cassandra asked.

Ana nodded.

IOI

She waited for the Seeker to cuff her, to call her a murderer again, or perhaps a coward for standing here whimpering like a toddler.

Cassandra did neither.

She nodded grimly.

"You're still alive," she said flatly, "That is good."

Ana looked at her in pure shock.

IOI

"Didn't you hear what I said, Seeker?"

"I did indeed. You killed a mage."

"I killed a boy!"

The Seeker shook her head.

"You…killed an enemy," she said, "That mage…that boy came here with his fellows to hurt people Herald. He came here to kill Templars. He came here to kill refugees and steal what little they had."

She took Ana by the hand.

"Come with me," she said softly.

"Why?"

"I need you to see something."

"What?"

Again she could hear the panic rising in the girl's voice. It did not anger Cassandra Pentaghast.

She had expected it; she had seen it many times in new recruits.

The herald had done her duty.

Now she needed to see that.

"Come with me," she repeated softly.

The girl still hesitated.

She decided to try a different tactic.

"Ana," she whispered, "Please."

The softness of her voice did it.

The girl obeyed.

Praise the Maker for small miracles.

IOI

The Seeker led her to one of the rocky outcroppings overlooking the crossroads. They had marched down this path not two hours ago; down below them sat the crossroads. Inquisition soldiers moved to and fro securing the area for the refugees, they tended to the wounded and offered whatever comfort they could.

The two warriors looked down on this, in silent reflection.

The seeker broke the silence.

"Was this the first time you have killed someone?"

Her question made Ana wince, but she nodded just the same.

The seeker nodded.

"It wasn't the same as killing a demon," the noble murmured.

"It never is," the older woman said, "But before you go falling apart with guilt, I want you to look down there and tell me what you see."

"Seeker, this is stupid."

"Tell me what you see Ana? Please?"

The noble looked down.

"The crossroads," she answered, "Our soldiers, refugees, buildings…."

"You see life, herald," the Seeker said interrupting her.

That stopped the girl cold.

"You see life."

Ana looked again at the crossroads.

Life?

She saw Inquisition scouts moving through trees scouring them for any survivors. Not all of the Templars and mages had been killed. There were some survivors; the Inquisition was treating their wounds as well as the refugees.

She saw men women and children, the fighting now over they went to see to what meager possession they still had. She saw Solas helping a man, his small children watched nervously. Varric chatted quietly with Harding, what the two dwarves had to say to each other she could only guess.

Life.

These people were still alive, they had endured hardship, but they were still alive.

The Seeker, Cassandra stood shoulder to shoulder with her.

"It is a soldier's job to come back alive, Herald. That means killing the enemy. If you must mourn for anyone in this affair, think of the innocents that perished today. "

She pointed down at where the soldiers were piling the dead Templars and mages.

"That boy was not a monster, but nor was he innocent. If he and his friends had succeeded, the crossroads would be in flames right now. The refugees scattered or dead, left to die from hunger or exposure."

Ana let out a shuddering breath.

"I…I see your point," she said softly.

"Do you?" the Seeker asked with an arched brow.

Ana felt a flash of anger, but it was quickly extinguished.

Yes, she did hear what the Seeker was trying to say, she knew in her head that it was right, that it was wise…

…but…

She still felt shame in her heart.

A single tear, ran down her cheek, for both that boy in the blue robes…

…and for herself.

She looked at the hardened warrior woman, Cassandra had seen so much more than she.

"Does it get any easier?"

Cassandra looked down at the crossroads.

"It does," she answered.

Ana snorted.

"Should it?"

The Seeker shrugged.

"It is necessary," she said, "We do a hard thing, but it is necessary. If order is to be restored to Thedas we will need to use something harsher than words alone."

Ana nodded she wiped at her face, hating herself for showing weakness in front of the Seeker.

Cassandra gave her the closest thing to a sympathetic look she could manage.

"Do not be ashamed that you have a good heart," she told the girl, "But remember what I said. Save your pity for those that truly deserve it. Do not dwell on those who fall beneath your blade, they can no longer harm you. Think instead on those you spare, do they deserve life; will they do good with what you have granted? Those are the matters you should concern yourself with."

Ana swallowed hard.

It was a harsh lesson, but she was starting to understand.

"Will I ever forget his face?" she asked.

The warrior woman paused.

"No," she replied, "My first kill was a blood mage. I was not much older than you are now; he and his allies had kidnapped a young girl from the circle in Orlais…"

Ana looked at her curiously.

"Did he say anything to you?"

"I cut off his head, so no."

"Ouch," Ana replied, "Forget I asked."

The Seeker sighed.

"I still think of that man. He was my enemy, but he is still a part of me, just as that boy will be a part of you."

Ana shook her head.

She had hoped for better news, but what else could the Seeker say.

She was simply being realistic.

The Seeker remained with her for a moment more.

Finally she turned away.

"Harding's people found Mother Gisele," she said, "She still wishes to meet you."

The warrior woman made her way back down to the camp.

Ana took one last look at the crossroads, at the lives they had saved, and ended.

The Herald of Andraste sighed.

Because of their actions, life continued.

It would endure.

_Wait! Please!_

She would never forget this day, but she would learn to put it in perspective.

It was the only way to survive, to live…

…to endure.

She looked at the back of the retreating Seeker, so cold and hard, but perhaps there was more to the woman than that.

She smiled slightly.

"Cassandra?" she called out.

The seeker stopped and looked back at her.

"Thank you," she said.

Cassandra Pentaghast paused, a hint of a smile tugged on her lips, or perhaps that was the girl's imagination.

"You…are welcome…Ana."

**A/N: Next Ana and company journey to Orlais to speak with the Chantry and gather a few unexpected allies. Also a visit from her sister, see you all then!**

**DG**


	5. Family Affairs

**Chapter 5: Family Affairs**

"Milady Herald?"

Ana froze.

She had only been back in Haven a few hours after spending almost two months in the Hinterlands. During that time she had done much. She had closed rifts. She had fought demons, Templars, and rogue apostates. She had led men, killed men, and spared men. Cassandra's advice guiding her to do what was right.

Her summons back to Haven was not unwelcome; she had been doing good work, but…

She had come to miss…creature comforts. She had not whined or complained while out in the Hinterlands, but that did not mean that she did not miss the simple pleasures of a hot meal and a good night's sleep.

The thought of a hot bath right now was more intriguing than all the gold in Thedas. It was funny how ones priorities changed during times of war.

She had been seeking out the particular pleasure when the strong male voice had called out.

It stopped her in her tracks. Her heart skipped a beat.

Calm down, her head chided, you are part of the Inquisition now, not some ill-educated peasant girl, act like it!

She smiled and turned.

Be calm, be strong.

"Commander Cullen?" she squeaked.

The Inquisition's military commander paused.

Ana cursed herself.

Where in the name of Andraste had that come from?!

She was such a stupid cow!

She regarded the commander coolly, trying to fight off a blush.

Of all of the members of the Inquisitions war council, Cullen was the one that made her the most…uncomfortable. The strong blonde former Templar Commander was not repellant, quite the opposite in fact. He was brave and skilled. When they had returned to Haven she had seen him stand up to Chancellor Roderick, still trying to convince the Inquisition leadership to abandon what he saw as madness.

Still trying to convince them to turn her over to the Mother's in Val Royeaux for judgment.

Cullen's impassioned defense of her had impressed her. He did everything but say that he would be damned before he, or any other member of the Inquisition, would hand the Herald over to the chantry's tender mercies.

His defense warmed her; he was so passionate about what they were doing.

So…so…Cullen.

It was quite intimidating.

Of course, she supposed that defense had been for naught. Mother Gisele had arranged a meeting between her and the surviving Mothers' of the chantry.

Cullen feared it a trap, but both Ambassador Montilyet and Cassandra felt it worth the risk. If the Inquisition could gain chantry support, if they could convince the mothers that they were not a threat, that would go a long way in their favor.

Determined not to embarrass herself again, she coughed, cleared her throat and tried again.

"My…apologies _"cough"_ Commander," she said, "Dust…dust from the "_cough"_ road."

Whether Cullen bought her lame excuse she could not say.

Again she kicked herself for her stupid immaturity.

"Of course Milady," he replied respectfully. He held her tight in those cold determined eyes of his.

She tried not to giggle or babble like an idiot, he was clearly here on business.

_Focus damn you! He is not flirting, get serious!_

_Right, _she thought_, business, __**Inquisition **__business._

She needed to focus on that. In the war council, she could stay focused, but out here…here…

Here…real life revealed her for the fool she was.

"Is there something I can do for you commander?" she purred.

Ana pursed her lips.

_Maker, had she really said __**that**__?_

_Was __**that**__ suggestive? She had __**not **__meant it to be._

_It had sounded better in her head. _

_Oh Maker! _

Again Cullen did not show any sense of her discomfort.

It was yet, another point in his favor.

"Sister Leliana wishes to speak with you Herald," he said, "She has information that might aid you in your mission to Orlais."

"Thank you Cullen," she said with a nod, "I will go see her immediately."

The man turned sharply and hurried off to perform his duties.

Ana followed him with her eyes, part of him anyway.

_Mm, he looked as good from behind as he did from the front._

_Wait! What?!_

She shook her head.

What in Andraste's name was wrong with her?

Cullen was not just some boy in Ostwick. He was a warrior, an important man in the Inquisition.

He did not need her ogling him like some…some drooling lap dog.

Cursing her own weakness, she sought out Sister Leliana. There Orlesian spy master could often be found outside the chantry in the command tent outside, holding court with her agents.

Ana willed herself to stay focused on the job at hand.

Cullen and her stupid ogling were a distraction.

They had work to do.

She **had** work to do.

IOI

A few weeks later, Ana found herself standing in the city of Val Royeaux, Cassandra, Solas, and Varric at her side.

The Mothers of the Chantry had confronted them in noble quarter. Merchants and Orlesian elite had a good view of what the mothers had hoped would be a grand victory.

It was a victory, stolen by their _**own**_ Templars…

…Stolen by Lord Seeker Lucius.

Mother Hevara had been preaching to the people about the strength of the chantry. How they intended to protect Val Royeaux as they always had.

How they intended to punish the so-called Herald of Andraste for murdering Divine Justinia.

The mother claimed that Ana was a false prophet. That the harlot of Ostwick wished to elevate herself above Andraste in the eyes of the faithful, and steal the Maker's bride's flock.

Ana's temper had flared at those accusations.

"I never claimed myself Andraste's equal," she spat at the old woman, "I came here to speak with you in good faith! To gather aid against the breach before it is too late!"

It was then that the Lord Seeker showed up. Mother Hevara had expected the man to return to the chantry and arrest the heretics of the Inquisition.

The man had the outspoken Mother punched in the jaw.

Even Ana had stood shocked by the move.

Behind her she heard Varric chuckle.

"Who hasn't wanted to do that at some point," the dwarf quipped.

She ignored him.

Once it was clear that the Templars were not there to arrest them, Cassandra had tried to reason with the Lord Seeker. The man ignored her completely. He claimed that both the chantry and the Inquisition had no place in destiny…

The only destiny that mattered here…was his.

In an open display of defiance, the Templars left the city of Val Royeaux, abandoning it to whoever would have it.

The mother cowered with her attendants; she spit blood and teeth from the Templar's strike.

Cassandra shook her head.

"Has the Lord Seeker gone mad?" Ana heard her murmur.

Ana only shook her head.

The whole world had gone mad.

Ana tried to aid Mother Hevara, the woman would not even meet her gaze. Fear and Ambition had motivated her to try such a foolish move, and all she had ended up doing was showing further weakness.

All of Orlais would doubt the chantry's strength now.

They would be the laughingstock of Thedas.

Ana tried offering her support, but the mother refused. Even if the herald believed that she was a force for good, she was still opposing the chantry.

That, in Mother Hevara's eyes was an even greater sin than Lucius's.

Cassandra led the Herald away from the chantry mothers.

The Seeker realized that there was nothing for them here.

She felt they should return to Haven immediately.

Ana was about to agree, despite what she had heard from Leliana when fate intervened.

A single arrow struck near their feet bearing a message, offering the help of a group calling itself the Friends of Red Jenny.

The herald regarded the letter, and the clues it offered, if she was interested in the friends' help she would need to play their game."

The noble sighed.

Speaking with the Mothers had failed; she might as well take advantage of this.

The Inquisition was still in its infancy.

They needed all the allies they could get.

As they left the square they were stopped by two more unexpected arrivals. The First was a runner from the estate of Duke Basten De Ghislain. The second was even more surprising.

It was Grand Enchanter Fiona, herself, the leader of the mage rebellion.

Ana examined the elven woman. She was petite, even for one of her kind, waif like, with short black hair streaked with gray. Like most elves it was hard to determine her true age, they did not show it as clearly as human's did. There were many stories about the Grand Enchanter; some even claimed that she had been a grey warden in her youth.

Cassandra was surprised to see her; she had thought that the elf had perished with her advisors back at the Conclave.

Fiona smiled at that.

She had not attended the Conclave, fearing it a trap. She had not been alone in that worry apparently; after all, Lord Seeker Lucius had remained behind as well.

She made no secret of the fact that she believed that the Templars were behind the explosion. She also confessed, that she had wondered if Cassandra and her Inquisition might also have been involved, a scheme to seize power perhaps.

The Seeker had balked at that.

She demanded that the mage get to the point.

Again Fiona smiled; something about it did not feel right to Ana.

The Grand Enchanter extended to the Inquisition an invitation to the city of Redcliffe back in Ferelden. Since, the Conclave, the surviving members of the mage leadership had retreated there.

Leaders, that were now, apparently now ready to talk.

Ana promised the elf that she would take the invitation up with the leaders of the Inquisition. They needed power certainly to help close the breach.

An alliance with the mages would benefit both sides.

IOI

Cassandra was clearly not happy about this, but held her tongue.

They did need power. Trying to close the breach alone had almost killed Ana. Solas believed that if she had more mages offering their magic and pouring it into the mark…

The breach might yet be closed.

Besides, the Seeker realized, the herald had stood with her often during their war councils, backing her suggestions. Ana's voice had often swayed the other members to act when they seemed willing to simply bicker back and forth.

If the girl believed that this might be beneficial.

The Seeker would support her choice.

IOI

She watched the Grand Enchanter vanish back into the shadows. Ana was still not sure what to make of what they had just faced.

The invitation to Redcliffe was worth a look, yet she still had concerns.

Something about this meeting did not sit right. Fiona did not act like a mage outlaw on the run for her life. She had seemed too much at ease, considering what the mages had lost at the Conclave. She clearly had some kind of advantage here in Val Royeaux that the Inquisition did not know about.

It was something they would need to examine later.

For now though, she turned her attention to the letter that young runner had left with them. It was perfumed with a fine wax seal, a mark of wealth and nobility.

She quickly broke the seal, and examined the message.

It was an invitation from the First Enchanter of Montsimmard, to his salon tomorrow evening.

Ana's brow furrowed.

She was not aware there **were** any more First Enchanters. The circles had dissolved…?

Hadn't they?

It seemed that they had an opportunity here.

The noble smiled slightly.

The last time she had attended an Orlesian salon she had been eleven years old. Her father had brought her with him on a business trip, inspecting their holdings here the capital of the Empire.

The little girl she had been had been enthralled by the grandeur of this place, the clothes, the fine masks, and all the other noble trappings. That night she had stood beside her father in frilly green dress, with a fine porcelain mask upon her face, marking her as a member of House Trevelyan.

She had not seen much of Papa that night. He had been busy speaking with his friends in the city, trying to expand the wealth of their family. He…

Ana's smiled dropped.

_Papa._

He had passed away four years ago, some kind of breathing disease that the circle healers could not stop. Mother had wasted little time in consolidating the family around herself, insuring that her children's claim to power were secure.

Those…had been troubling times. Ana had always been a daddy's girl; she made no excuse about that. Mother always had more business sense than father. He was likeable but…

She spent all her time with Elizabeth and Andreas that almost always meant that Ana was in the care of her father.

When he was gone, she had been devastated.

"Hey Kiddo?"

She startled, unaware that she had drifted away for the moment.

"Um," she cleared her throat, pushing back sad memories.

"Yes Varric?"

"You okay?"

She nodded.

Papa would not want her falling apart in the middle of an Orlesian square.

She was still a Trevelyan after all.

She took a deep breath and gathered her courage.

It was time to get moving.

IOI

"I am uncomfortable with this Herald."

Ana looked back at Cassandra, the woman's intense demeanor had grown even harder since that business with the Mothers. She understood, but…

"We need lodgings for the night," she shrugged, "Orlais is not the safest place for us to be, we need to take safety where we can find it."

The Herald smiled.

"My family's Estate here in the city will do nicely I think."

The Seeker snorted.

"Nobles have a way taking advantage of such situations," she said.

Ana laughed lightly.

"My relatives concern you, Seeker?"

"The Inquisition cannot be seen beholden to anyone," the warrior woman replied, "The Trevelyan that rules this estate might seek more of us and you in exchange for this hospitality."

Again the girl's smile widened.

"I can guarantee that that will not be a problem. I'm quite familiar with the Trevelyan that owns this estate."

"Really," Solas replied, "You are close friends then?"

Ana laughed.

"I should hope so," she giggled, "I see her in the mirror every morning."

That stopped her friends short.

The girl grinned at their reaction.

Their faces, they were priceless.

"The estate is **mine**," Ana said batting her eyelashes innocently.

Varric chuckled.

"Didn't realize you had any holdings, Kiddo," the dwarf said.

"No one asked," she shrugged, "Pap…my Father, passed away a few years back, he handled the bulk of our Orlesian holdings."

Ana's smile turned sad.

"I didn't survive simply on my mother's purse strings you know," she said, "Father recognized the fact that my mother was eyeing a chantry life for me. He knew me well enough to know I did not want that. He left me the estate and a few of our businesses here if I wished to live free of my Mother's wishes and Ostwick."

"I'll always be grateful to him for that."

IOI

Cassandra nodded, the idea now seemed more acceptable to her. She fell in step behind the Herald.

She sometimes forgot that Ana had a life before the Conclave, before becoming the Herald.

She thought back to the encounter with Mother Hevara. The woman had accused Ana of being a false prophet…

Ana had denied she had any divine connection, choosing to see her survival at the conclave as chance and nothing more.

Cassandra was not so sure.

She believed in providence.

Anastasia Trevelyan was not what she would have expected, but it was clear that there was more to her than a girl from a noble family in Ostwick.

The refugees in the Hinterlands had responded to her, welcoming her help with open arms. The Templars and mages that had surrendered the Inquisition were treated with respect and a chance to prove themselves at Ana's wishes. The soldiers and scouts that spoke with her and saw her courage in battle embraced her as one of their own.

Those soldiers, they would die for her, and surprisingly…so would she.

Cassandra saw in Ana what the Inquisition should be, a force of both strength and compassion.

Whether Ana realized it or not, whether she wanted it or not. She was building a powerbase for herself. She was gaining followers, followers that could turn into worshippers. People were coming to the Inquisition curious about her growing legend. Lady Josephine and Leliana did not fully grasp what that meant yet.

Ana's quiet strength and humility were gaining them more and more allies. If the girl stayed this course, the Inquisition might turn into a holy flood. A flood that not even the mightiest nation in Thedas could stop.

The Seeker smiled slightly.

Ana might not believe she was chosen, she might not believe in the Maker's will, but that was all right.

He clearly…believed in her.

IOI

Ana led them up to the gates of the Trevelyan estate.

She smiled at her small holdings, small for a Trevelyan anyway.

Four floors, twelve bedrooms, the seat of her families power here in the west.

She laughed lightly.

"It isn't much," she quipped, "But it is home."

Solas chuckled behind her.

"I had no idea you lived in such hardship, Milady," he said dryly.

"It was a sacrifice," she smirked, "But I try to be brave."

"Ugh," Cassandra said rolling her eyes.

Not wishing to torture her Seeker-friend anymore. She led them through the gates.

The guards acknowledged her presence. She had sent a raven ahead of them, informing the staff to prepare for their arrival.

Varric moved up next to her.

"Just how rich are you Kiddo?"

She smiled.

"Seeking an investor Master dwarf?"

"A businessman is always looking for more contacts."

She laughed lightly.

"You aren't much of a businessman."

"True enough," he snorted, "But if I pretend, people can usually ignore that fact."

Her smile widened.

She was grateful for her friends.

She would need them in the next few minutes.

Ana sighed.

Leliana had warned her before they left Haven.

She had a visitor waiting inside.

It was best not to keep her waiting.

The head of the household, an elven man named Berrick opened the door as they approached.

He smiled at her.

"Welcome home Mistress Ana."

She smiled and embraced him. Berrick had always been close to her father, he had begun as her father's personal man servant here in Orlais.

Ana had promoted him two years ago. The house had never run better since, she might not have visited in all that time, but she had received letters.

She was pleased that they had not been wrong.

"Has she arrived yet?" she asked him.

"Mistress?" he said shyly.

She turned to him with a smile.

"It is okay Berrick, I know she is here."

The old elf's ears twitched.

"She is waiting for you in the study," he sighed, "She wanted this to be a surprise."

Ana nodded and made her way to the study.

Berrick chased after her.

"Would Milady like to change first?"

"Not necessary," she said over her shoulder.

The others followed them, she had not told them about this part. They might have convinced her not to face this confrontation.

She had not wished to be talked out of it.

She opened the door to the study.

Anastasia! Darling!"

The woman flung her arms around Ana. Cassandra tensed, and Varric started to raise his crossbow.

Solas stopped them both.

They regarded the seen before them.

The woman embracing Ana was a good head taller than the Herald, taller and classically beautiful. Long flowing red hair tumbled down to the small of her back. Her features were like fine porcelain, her eyes warm and inviting.

Eyes so similar to Ana's, but that was no surprise.

Ana returned the hug.

"Hello Lizzy, it is good to see you too."

The woman broke away from her, she examined the Herald.

She pouted.

"Oh Anastasia, you poor little goose, you look a fright! You're so thin, and this…this armor, not befitting a daughter of House Trevelyan."

Ana did not bristle at the mock insult.

She had heard those most of her life.

"Lizzy," she said, "There are some people I would like you to meet, my comrades within the Inquisition."

At the mention of the group, the noble beauty paused; she regarded Ana's fellows coolly.

"Be nice," Ana whispered in her ear.

"I'm always nice," Lizzy responded.

Ana smiled, but it was a brittle thing.

She was grateful for Leliana's warning, if she had just shown up.

She might have been shocked.

"Everyone," she began, "Allow me to introduce Lady Elizabeth Aliza Trevelyan, First daughter of the Matriarch of House Trevelyan, and Heir to our noble house."

Lady Elizabeth smiled.

"I greet you all in the name of the Trevelyans," she began, "And offer you my thanks for guarding my little sister and bringing her home at last."

The last statement confused Ana.

_**Home?**_

What was going on?

What game was Lizzy playing this time?

She sighed.

She would just have to find out.


	6. Friends

**Chapter 6: Friends**

He had travelled far.

He had sought out the ruins of ancient cities, and walked the paths of battlefields lost to time. He had communed with spirits unknown to lore and trod sections of the fade that most circle mages likely never dreamed existed.

Now Solas found himself in Orlais, standing in the home of Ana Trevelyan, his companion and friend.

The bald elf smiled slightly.

Were they friends?

Yes, he believed they were. Ana was…an interesting young woman. She was smart and warm, yet he had seen her in combat, seen the terror she could inflict on her enemies. He had seen her put bandit, mage, and Templar to the sword, but also seen her drape a warm blanket over a weary refugee and return hope to a child who had all but lost it.

The elf chuckled.

She was a most interesting young woman indeed.

He remembered the first time he had seen her. The Seeker had brought him to the cells beneath the Haven chantry. The girl was in a very bad state. Her noble clothing tattered and burnt. She lay curled in a fetal ball, the magic of the breach boiling from the wound in her hand. Adan, the alchemist working hard trying to keep the poor girl's heart beating.

They had both fought hard for Ana that day. It took much his knowledge to keep the mark from devouring the noble girl. In the end of course, it had been worth it, they now had an ally who could affect the breach.

And Solas had found a new friend as well.

He found himself in the library of her estate. The elf wandered, admiring the shelves, many of the books here were old, rare tomes that would likely have made the librarian of any circle tower drool.

He paused again as he often did, reaching out with his magic, feeling this places presence within the world.

The elf's ears twitched with curiosity.

He usually avoided cities; he avoided places where people trod in numbers. He stayed out of the way of people who might fear or not understand what he was.

He had certainly never wandered the halls of such an august estate…

What he felt now, well, he realized that that might have been an error on his part.

Val Royeaux was a very old city, it had seen much in its long ages. This estate had been built long ago, long before the Trevelyan family purchased it that was for sure.

Solas could feel the history of this place. He felt the love, hate, ambition, hope, and joy that had been shared in its many rooms. So much had happened here, alliances made and plots hatched.

This home had seen much life.

Lords had ruled their lands from its rooms. They had taken brides and conceived children with them. Children that had grown strong and slowly faded away as age or circumstance made them part of history. Wars had been declared on rivals, and peace reigned as new arrangements were reached.

The bald elf sighed happily.

He would enjoy dreaming in this place, exploring its many mysteries.

He approached one of the bookcases, admiring the titles there. Long slender fingers ran across the bindings.

So much history, so much to see and explore.

"Try the green one; it was always one of my favorites."

Solas smiled.

"Hello Ana," he said.

He turned to greet his friend, their herald. Ana was no longer in her battle armor, tonight she had chosen a plain white blouse and long green skirt, a black leather vest adorned with her family crest completed the look.

The girl looked more comfortable than he had seen in weeks.

Which should not have been surprising, she had been born into this world. A world far removed from breaches and wars. Still, he could sense some trepidation on her part.

He suspected that it involved the young woman who had greeted them when they had arrived. Ana's sister Elizabeth.

The Herald came up beside him; she pulled down the book she mentioned. She opened it up, revealing beautifully drawn sketches, knights riding great winged creatures, clashing with great dragons of old.

Ana smiled.

"A History of the Grey by Brother Simus," the noble said wistfully, "Papa used to read it to me when I was sick, it always made me feel better, stories of heroism and courage."

She shook her head.

"It seemed so far removed from the world in which we lived, where everything was money and family heraldries."

Solas' elven ears twitched.

"You did not approve of your family's world?"

Ana shrugged.

"It…it seemed so…far from what I wanted. I think my Father understood that better than anyone. He and Mother had had their heirs. Lizzy and Andy fit so perfectly into what they wanted. When I was born, well, it was expected that I take up a place within the chantry. That was traditionally the role of a third child in our family.

Ana closed the book and put it back on the shelf, she walked to the window, staring down at the city below, the setting sun turning her pale skin and red hair the color of orange flame.

She sighed.

"Sister Anastasia," she snorted, "One day Revered Mother Anastasia that was what the family expected. We are a family of tradition you see. We've always stayed close to the chantry, trying to take a small piece of its respect and power."

Solas listened closely; it was rare of Ana to speak so openly.

She laughed lightly.

"What I have done, the Inquisition that is not what my family expected. Certainly not from a child of the Lady Aliza Trevelyan that is for sure."

"Would your mother disprove of your actions since the Conclave?"

"She is likely furious with me," Ana admitted, "I suspect that the Revered Mothers back in Ostwick are demanding that she do something about me, her rebellious child, the heretic. A disappointment and a disgrace, made even worse that I bear her name."

"You were named for your mother, but I…thought…"

"Another tradition," she added, "The children of our family take the middle name of their same sex parent. Hence I was named Anastasia Aliza; it is supposed to symbolize whose strength we draw from as he we make our way in the world remind us who we come from…"

Ana chuckled.

"Personally, I think it is so that my many relatives can identify whose children belong to whom at large family gatherings."

Solas snorted with amusement.

The herald turned back to the city, she sighed heavily.

Lizzy's presence here, she feared it meant only one thing.

"Mother wants me to leave the Inquisition. That is the only reason that she would send Lizzy here."

The bald elf tilted his head slightly.

"What do you want Ana?"

Again the herald shook her head.

"Just after the conclave had you asked me that, I would have said that I wanted to go with her. That I wanted to get away from all this, all this blood, death, and people looking at me like I'm some kind of hero."

The girl paused; Solas knew that she did not believe as many in Haven did, that she had been blessed by Andraste and the shemlen Maker.

He had his own ideas of course, he suspected that a spirit of faith had likely saved Ana in the fade, that it had taken a shape most pleasing and recognizable to a girl of Ana's upbringing, in this case, a woman in chantry robes…

Of course, that did not explain how she survived the explosion in the Conclave in the first place. It was one of the many mysteries that were holding him here.

He did not like to leave such questions unanswered.

The girl pursed her lips.

"Now," she continued, "I'm not sure what I want. You saved my life, the Inquisition saved my life. What we have to do, it…it is dark work, dark and bloody, but…we are doing good as well. We are helping people."

She turned to him.

"What would you do Solas? Would you turn away from this if you could? Would you go back to your wonderings?"

"Why ask me?"

"Because you are one of the wisest people I know, the things you have seen…I trust your counsel on this.

The elf smiled slightly.

Few mages would call him wise; he traversed places that they would consider foolish. Still…the girl's respect touched him.

He would try to answer her question to the best of his abilities.

"The breach threatens us all," he said, "If it is not stopped, if the world does not return to balance, there may not be much of a world left for me to wander in."

"But it is more than that," he continued, "What we are doing, this Inquisition, it is more than just a collection people trying to restore order. If we continue down this path, we will become a symbol."

He smiled at her.

"As you have become a symbol, the Herald of Andraste, the others look to you now; they believe that you are proof that what they are doing is right."

Ana rolled her eyes.

"Great, I'm a symbol."

The elf chuckled.

"I'm not saying anything you did not already suspect did I?"

"No."

"Then, perhaps you have your answer," he said, "I will stay because I am needed."

His expression turned serious.

"Even if you could return to your home, even if you could go back to your family and their estates, would you be able to remain. You see what the Inquisition is up against. There is still so much that we don't know. That you do not know."

He pointed at her hand, the mark there crackled with yellow green light.

She looked at her palm.

"Could you just walk away from all that?"

Ana sighed, staring at the mark.

"No," she said softly, "I do not think I could, or can. You saw the same thing I did in the ruins of the temple of sacred ashes. That shadow guy, the one holding the Divine, the one who said that I should be killed."

Solas remembered well, the spirits that mimicked what had happened had not been able to take the shape of the culprit that caused the breach, leaving him or her shrouded in darkness.

That was a concern to be certain.

"I want to know how I survived the explosion," she held up her hand, the mark glowed brightly there.

"I want to know what this is, what caused it, and…and if it can be removed when all this is over."

Ana turned back to the window.

"I cannot do that attending parties in Ostwick."

"I don't suppose you could," Solas replied.

A smirk appeared on the noble girl's face.

"Besides, Cassandra and Leliana would have me dragged back before I got out of Orlais. I'm the only one who can seal the rifts after all."

"An excellent point Herald," he said.

IOI

She rolled her eyes.

One day, she hoped that she would get used to that title. Either that or she would have to travel so far that no one knew who Andraste was. Maybe Qunari lands, of course there, she would likely be expected to convert to their religion.

Ana was not a fan of authority, and the Qunari seemed too…rigid for her tastes.

Oh well, she would just have to grin and bear it she supposed.

She glanced at her friend, and yes, she did see him as a friend, not just that, but a savior.

If it had not been for Solas, she would have died weeks ago.

"Lizzy is going to kill me when I tell her I'm staying."

"Good thing you have Cassandra here then,' he elf quipped.

Ana laughed lightly.

"My family might disown me to; oh what will I do, if I'm no longer invited to the gatherings. Oh, the scandal! The shame!"

"I'm certain the Inquisition will find something for you to do," he said.

Ana laughed.

She was sure that he was right.

The noble shook her head.

Well, she had a plan.

She was staying, now came the hard part.

Now she had to tell Lizzy, the heir of their family, the one person, besides their mother who always got what she wanted.

Ana pursed her lips again.

This…would not be a pleasant conversation.

**A/N: Next Ana confronts her sister, and the arrival of a "Friend" named Sera.**

**See you all then.**

**DG**


	7. Two Sisters

**Chapter 7: Two Sisters**

Ana girded herself for battle, not with iron, leather or steel, but with things as equally as dangerous.

The battle tonight was one she familiar with; even though this would be the first time she stood alone. It was a battle fought with silk, perfume and polite innuendo delivered from a giggling mouth.

On the surface it seemed easier than what she had faced in the Hinterlands, but that was simply not so.

In Orlais, high society could be as dangerous as any battlefield,

She stood in the master bedroom of her estate. Her slender form clean and perfumed, her red hair still damp from a hot bath, clad only in a simple silk shift, she inspected the gowns that would serve as her armor during this particular battle. Duke Ghislain's salon would no doubt be a society event here in Val Royeaux. She recognized the need to make an impression, one both favorably to herself and to the Inquisition.

Can't embarrass us, she thought…

…Not tonight.

She could not afford a faux pas here.

Her brow furrowed in thought.

She was trying to remember what she had seen in the market place yesterday, what was the current fashion trend here? What color was considered today? What style would impress both power and good taste?

When she was in battle in the Hinterlands, no enemy would laugh at the color of her armor. Here…she needed to be smarter. She would not be sure what to do if they did. Cut off their head maybe…?"

She smiled slightly.

That would definitely be Cassandra's response.

The five dresses that Berrick had set out were all well and good. Ana remembered purchasing all of them. Two had been considered too…Orlesian for any salon in Ostwick, which was why she had had them brought here. They would not have worked back home, but here in the capital…they would do just fine.

She picked up the first one, a bright red gown, slit at the leg and plunging deeply down the front. She held it up before her, getting an idea of how she would look in it.

The herald frowned.

Yes, she remembered this one now. Mother had glared at the very sight of it, which is probably how it ended up in Ana's wardrobe. The dressmaker himself had tried to discourage her taking it…

_You do not have the…the…__**figure **__to wear this lovely properly my good woman_, he had said.

She had snorted at that comment. Sure her chest did not stick out like the prow of a ship that was what corsets were for wasn't it?

She shook her head, a vacuous smile sprung to her lips.

"Hello Orlais," she sang, "I'm an enormous trollop!"

She threw the dress down on the bed.

_Nope, it was not to be __**that **__one._

The next one was a dark royal blue, it was fine she supposed, and it matched her eyes, but…

She grimaced.

She would wear it well, but it was too…too…conservative, the noble ladies would likely think her some stuck-up bumpkin, or some chantry prude.

She was in the Inquisition after all; she wasn't a chantry sister or dead.

"Greeting's Orlais," she cooed, "Let us **all **sing the chant of light, only **the** word dispels the darkness.

She discarded that one too, she…

She sighed in frustration.

_Andraste save me_, she thought.

_I used to be good at this._

"The green one I think sister."

Ana jumped.

Lizzy was standing in the doorway. Only she had the audacity to disturb the lady of the house while preparing for evening.

The heir of House Trevelyan smiled at her.

She handed the gown in question to her sibling.

"Green was always your cousin my little Goose.

Ana held it up for inspection. She had to admit, it wasn't…_terrible_. It was just the right mix of daring, yet…conservative. It showed off her features without almost having her falling out of it.

She smiled slightly.

_It seems we have a winner._

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Any time my dear," Lizzy responded.

"Any time."

IOI

Ana had hoped to have a serious talk with Lizzy all day. She needed to clear the air. She needed to explain what had happened in Haven so that her family would understand.

Her first attempt had **not** gone as planned.

It had been early this morning, or late evening if one followed the social scene of Orlais. Lizzy had just been returning from a party herself when Ana and her allies walked in.

"MAKER'S BREATH!" Lizzy had exclaimed.

The herald had not blamed her.

Their armor was bloodied; sweat, dirt, and straw from the back alleys of Val Royeaux covered their faces…

…and they had not returned alone. They had picked up a…recruit along the way, an elven woman with short blonde hair and a mouth like a sailor from the Friends of Red Jenny.

Her name was Sera, and she looked at the estate around her with distaste.

"It's big yeah," she snorted, her elven ears lowering slightly, "could probably fit two Alienages in this place, the stench would probably choke the whole neighborhood."

She looked at Ana.

"Maybe I was wrong about you not being too big for your breeches, Herald."

Ana did not respond. She was still trying to figure out how to talk to the elf without pissing her off.

Sera took one look at Lizzy in her mask and fine gown, and smirked.

"Behold the lady of the manner," she said with an exaggerated bow, "The noble shiitte returns while we get the work done in the darkness that is just fine, yeah. Be grateful we done it yeah, less blood on your pretty hands, noble git."

Lizzy had glared at the girl.

"I beg your pardon?"

The elven girl giggled.

"Ooh so noble," she smirked, "I crush you. I crush you."

Ana intervened before Sera did something foolish. Varric got her out of the foyer, the promise of food and drink enough to draw the rather…unusual elven archer from Lizzy's sight, or Lizzy from Sera's crosshairs.

Cassandra and Solas left to get cleaned up themselves, the look on the elder Trevelyan's face enough to show that she was not interested in socializing with them.

Lizzy had glared at her.

"Who are these people you now travel with Little Goose?"

Ana winced.

_So much for making a good impression_, she thought with a frown.

_Thanks Sera._

The elf was skilled she could not deny that.

She just hoped that she would be worth the trouble.

IOI

Ana moved with purpose as she prepared for the evening, with Lizzy's help, she had the dress, now she needed just the right shoes, hair ribbon, and jewelry to complete the job.

Lizzy sat on the bed watching her, a coy smiled on her face.

"This seems familiar somehow," she cooed.

Her younger sister smiled.

It did indeed feel familiar.

For years it had been Lizzy preparing for parties while Ana sat back and watched. The heir of House Trevelyan had to be perfect at any function. The honor of their noble house was always at stake.

Now their situation was reversed slightly.

"Do you remember your coming out party?" Ana asked, "Your sixteenth name day?"

Lizzy smiled.

"I couldn't sleep for a week," she giggled, "Mother had me working right up until the moment of the party, memorizing the names of the important guests, trying on dresses, making sure everything was perfect…

The Herald quirked her lip with amusement.

"Then there was Miles," she reminded her sister, "Lord Kinray's son."

Lizzy's brow furrowed.

"Miles did not escort me to my sixteenth. Cedric accompanied me.

Ana giggled.

"True, but it was Miles that Andy caught you with in the guest room after."

Lizzy blushed.

Her sister could not help but snicker.

It felt strange, the two of them just talking like this, strange but nice.

She feared that it would not last.

"Mother was furious with me; she was…just so…disappointed. She had expected me and Cedric to be married I think…"

The elder Trevelyan shook her head.

"It had never been a good idea to disappoint our mother.

Ana frowned.

It was with those words that any fun left the room.

Things had just become serious.

Lizzy sighed and looked at her, Ana suddenly felt very small under her gaze.

_Lizzy please…_

_You must understand._

"Sister?"

"Yes," Ana replied.

Lizzy looked down at her finely lacquered nails.

"Anastasia?"

"Yes?"

"What happened at the Conclave? Why…why are you helping these…these…Inquisition people?"

The younger Trevelyan sighed.

"It is hard to explain sister."

"Try Anastasia, for me, for our family, please try."

Ana did her best.

She told her sister about the morning of the Conclave, of waking up, and quarreling with Uncle Randolph. All she had said was that she did not think that the issues with the mages and Templars would not be solved easily. He had taken that as a slight on the Divine, which had not been her intention, she…

She thought she remembered the two of them leaving their cabin. Heading up the mountain path to the temple of sacred ashes, but after that…

Nothing.

Her next memory was the nightmare of being chased by…something in the darkness, and the glowing woman in white. Then she had woken in cells beneath the chantry in Haven, her hand burning with the magic of the fade.

The rest…Lizzy had probably heard the same tales as everyone else.

Her elder sister listened closely. Ana downplayed the part with the glowing woman, and the monsters, she did not want her sister thinking she had gone mad.

When she had finished, Lizzy snorted like and angry mare, she suspected that Lizzy had her own opinion on what had happened.

"So you remember nothing?"

"Not a thing, not since that morning."

Lizzy shook her head.

"Bastards," she spat, "Cruel bastards."

That made Ana pause.

She had never heard her sister swear before.

"Lizzy?"

The heir of House Trevelyan gave her a cold look.

"Little Goose, don't you see what has happened?"

"I…I'm not sure."

Lizzy snorted.

"It is as clear as day," she sniffed, "Your Inquisition friends were behind all this."

Ana's mouth fell open.

_**What?!**_

"Don't you see? Who stands to profit most from the Divine's death, her advisors, the ones behind this rebellion? They used the mages to destroy the conclave and assassinate the Most Holy."

Ana's mind whirled.

_Talk about jumping to conclusions._

"The mages lost people too sister. I don't think the mage rebellion was behind this, not all of them anyway."

"It makes sense Anastasia. Your…your Inquisition friends, they manipulated the mages, with the Divine now dead they were free to seize power for themselves. The mothers are in shock. The Templar order weakened, it is the perfect time for a strike against the chantry itself."

"What about the breach sister?"

"Something to occupy the Templars while these…these thugs and hoodlums seize power."

Ana bristled slightly at that.

_Thugs and hoodlums?_

_Was that how Lizzy saw the Inquisition?_

_Was __**that **__how her family saw her?_

"And what of me sister," she inquired, "Where do I fit into all this?"

Lizzy's eyes turned sympathetic.

"That is the worst thing of all," she said, "You say you can't remember what happened. I think, these Inquisition people murdered the Trevelyan entourage, and kidnapped you."

"Kidnapped me? Why?"

"Because you are you Anastasia," she said with unshed tears, "You're an innocent, with no desire to wield real power, but your name gives you credibility strength."

Lizzy's eyes flashed, no doubt imagining all the horrible things the Inquisition had done to her.

Ana felt like she was sliding down a hill, lost.

It…no…it had not happened that way!

"They needed a figure head for this cause, who better than a girl that they could manipulate. They probably convinced the mages to mind control you, make you believe all these ridiculous rumors."

The Herald's manner chilled.

"Which ridiculous rumors do you mean sister?"

Lizzy paused; perhaps she saw the anger in Ana's eyes for the first time.

"This isn't your fault sister; you are an innocent victim in this plot."

Ana glared at her.

"So I'm nothing then, a dupe?"

"You are Anastasia Aliza Trevelyan," her sister reminded her, "These thugs no doubt knew the power of your name and mind controlled you into agreeing with their mad schemes."

Ana stood over her glaring down at her elder sister.

Lizzy rose and wrapped her arms around her.

"My poor little goose," she cooed, "We have to get you away from these…these charlatans."

She stepped back, a warm smile on her face.

"We can leave tonight, do not attend this salon, we can be on a ship in less than an hour, before your…"_Friends"_ know you are gone we can be safely on our way back to Ostwick."

Ana said nothing.

"You know I'm right," Lizzy added, "Think sister, you are no crusader. We…we can go home.

"When we get back we will take you before the Revered Mothers, you can denounce this madness, and the Templar can get back to the business of stopping both this Inquisition and the mages."

Ana laughed.

_Oh Maker!_

_She could not believe what she was hearing._

"The Templars left the chantry Lizzy, they don't want to save us, they want independence and to kill mages, that is it."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do," Ana said hotly, "I heard Lord Seeker Lucius in the square. He said he is leading his Templars towards a new destiny. He had Revered Mother Hevara punched in the face for Maker's sake!"

Lizzy shook her head.

"The Templars will save us, Anastasia, we have to trust them. The chantry will elect and new Divine and she will convince the Templars to come back. Then…"

Ana grabbed her sister by the arms, Lizzy gasped.

"Anastasia, what are you…?"

"Lizzy stop…just…**stop**."

Her sister did just that, Ana's blue eyes flashed. She was shocked to discover how angry she was.

Was this how her family chose to react? Was this how her mother chose to react, to bury her head in the sand and hope for the best?

Ana had seen the Hinterlands. She saw the chaos there.

_The Inquisition did **not** have that luxury._

The chantry was doing nothing to help, a few mothers remained to comfort the refugees, but beyond that...

The Templars preyed on those same refugees, they should have been protecting them from demons, rogue mages and bandits, but they weren't."

Cassandra's words came back to her.

_We cannot wait for the chantry to decide on a course of action. We are on our own…perhaps…**forever**._

Ana winced.

"Lizzy, I want you to listen to me. The Inquisition did not murder the Divine. "We're not trying to seize power. We are trying to restore order. The mage Templar war must end. The breaches must be sealed. If we wait for the chantry to sort out this mess, it may be too late."

Lizzy gave her a worried look.

"We?" she murmured.

"Yes Lizzy, **we**," Ana repeated, "I'm a soldier of the Inquisition. **I'm** one of them. I'm no innocent dupe. They did not kidnap or mind control me. They..."

Lizzy yelped, she pulled away from her sister, she gasped in horror, rubbing her left arm.

"Maker's breath," she gasped, "What is that?!"

The heir of House Trevelyan was pointing at her younger sister's hand.

The mark there was flaring, crackling with the magic of the fade.

Ana winced.

She probably should have shown her sister this earlier.

She raised her hand, letting her sister get a good look at the mark there.

The color drained from Lizzy's face.

Ana swallowed hard, never had she seen fear in Lizzy's eyes, not directed towards her.

Now…she did.

"This is why I'm in the Inquisition sister," she said, "I wasn't kidnapped before the Conclave, I…I was there. I…I…lived through the explosion."

Lizzy shook her head, her eyes wide with terror.

"The seekers and soldiers that have become the Inquisition found me among the ruins. I…I emerged from one of the fade rifts. A woman…I…she…I don't know who she was saved me, sent me back."

Ana's voice cracked, she did not talking about this, it made it seem real…too real.

"I think I might have died at the Conclave sister. I should have, if you saw the ruins you would know that nothing could have survived that. I'm not sure how I did, but…but it wasn't for nothing. The mark…it can heal rifts, I can close them. I might be able to close the breaches too…I…I can save us all."

Ana tried to approach her, Lizzy began to back away.

"Lizzy, it is okay."

The heir of House Trevelyan glared at her.

"You are not Anastasia!"

"I am…it is complicated, but…"

"You are not! You are some monster, a demon from the void!"

The words struck like a fist. Ana paused.

"Lizzy…I…stop…I love you."

She reached out for her sister.

Lizzy swiped her hand away.

"Stay away from me, evil thing! May Andraste curse you!"

"Lizzy stop!"

Stay away from my family," she snarled, "You are not Anastasia! My sister is dead!"

"Liz…?"

"Stay away from me!"

Elizabeth Aliza Trevelyan spun on her heel and fled quickly, not running, never running, a Trevelyan did not run from an enemy.

Ana stood in her room, unable to move…unable to speak.

"Lizzy?" she whimpered, "Come back…let me explain?"

She did not pursue. She could not.

Her sister's words struck her like a lash.

_You are not Anastasia!_

_My sister is dead!_

_Stay away from my family!_

_**You**__ are a __**monster! **_

"Lizzy," she murmured, tears flowing down her cheeks.

_Monster!_

"Lizzy come back."

_My sister **is** dead._

Ana fell to her knees, she sobbed pathetically.

"Lizzy. Oh Maker…Lizzy."

She reached out, but found nothing but air.

"Come back, please, I can explain."

"Please…come back."

**A/N: Chapter turned out darker than I thought, but it still fits I think. I have to say, writing in Sera's voice is difficult, she is such an off the wall character. More of Ana's adventures still to come. See you all soon.**

**DG**


	8. Swimming with Sharks

**Chapter 8: Swimming with Sharks**

It was with a heavy heart that Ana left the Trevelyan estate. No matter how she was feeling, not matter what she was thinking…

She still had to serve the Inquisition's interests.

She was dressed in the fine gown that Lizzy had suggested for her, her red hair pulled up in a tight bun, showing off her long pale neck. A plain white mask with light gold markings hid her face from view; in Orlais she remembered it was tradition that a child of noble blood wears a mask, a sign of both their House, and their nobility.

Not that Ana's mask bore any such markings. It was quite plain really, which really should have been as no surprise since its original owner was one of the senior house servants, a girl trusted to run messages back and forth for House Trevelyan.

The courier had been a bit surprised by her lady's request, surely the Lady Ana, had finer mask than this when she wished to mingle with the nobility.

She **did** of course, and she could have worn one such mask, but that was not the point. The simple mask was meant to make an interesting point, or at least she hoped that it would, well... two points…actually.

The first point being that she was not here simply as a member of House Trevelyan. She was here representing the interests of the Inquisition, interests that their little group had to define for the nobles of Val Royeaux. The Inquisition was **not** here to seize power, quite the contrary in fact. They had no interest in overthrowing the chantry, despite what the Mothers thought. The men and women who served fought out of a desire to serve the Maker's will, to protect his children and seal the breach…

The Inquisition was meant to be a servant to all of Thedas. They fought to restore order and make things better. By taking up the mask of a servant, while at the same time wearing the noble trappings of her house, Ana hoped to prove to the nobles just how far both she….and her allies were prepared to go for the sake of their world.

_They need to understand_, she thought…

_We're only trying to help._

It was a motivation of sorts for the young noble woman, but alas, it was not the only one.

Her second reason was more…personal, and very recent…

She could not get Lizzy's harsh words out of her head. The Heir of House Trevelyan had cut her little sister quite deeply with them, far more deeply than even Ana suspected…

_Monster._

_Stay away from my family!_

_My sister is dead!_

The herald was trying hard not to think about those words. She had feared that something like this might happen. When she refused to return home, she knew that there would be consequences, she…she had just not thought that her sister would have acted like…well…that.

Lizzy had been frightened of her…terrified.

Ana had _**not**_ expected that.

When she told Solas that her family might disown her, she had not actually thought that they would actually **do **it. Considering what Lizzy had said, and the fact that she was the heir to the family…

Her being disowned was a very real possibility.

The very thought made Ana ill.

Mother could step in she supposed, but she would give real thought to what her eldest said when she told her what had happened here. Mother had always trusted Lizzy's judgment; after all she had trained her daughter to think just like her.

If Lizzy had reacted that way, Mother…Mother just might…

Ana shuddered.

_Would Mother agree with Lizzy?_

_It was a possibility._

The thought of never being able to return to Ostwick, being cast out of the family, being accused of being some monster, and never seeing any of her loved ones ever again…

It…it was a disturbing thought, more than disturbing...

It was tragic.

Her eyes started burning again; it seemed that her initial crying fit was not over.

No you don't, she thought angrily.

She sniffed and gritted her teeth.

_You are __**not**__ a little girl anymore, you __**are **__a Trevelyan!_

_Bloody well act like it!_

She willed herself not to cry, it was not appropriate right now. There would be time for tears later, after she had finished her business here.

Ana stood a little straighter; she took a deep cleansing breath.

It did help…somewhat.

For not the first time this evening, she thanked the Maker that Orlesians wore masks. They did more than simply mark a person as noble here.

They were also quite useful for hiding the red puffiness of a crying girl's eyes. Make up, helped, but it was no substitute for a good mask.

It helped keep the illusion of her strength intact, here in the capital of the Empire, that was more than valuable…

…it…was **priceless**.

IOI

No sooner had she stepped outside the gates that her bodyguards were there to flank her, to shield her from any potential attack. Soldiers of the Inquisition all, but today not clad in the armor of their august organization.

Ana smiled slightly.

She saw Leliana's delicate touch in this, or at least one of her senior agents. Val Royeaux was still reeling from the Templars rather public exit. The chantry and the faithful living here were still likely in shock.

Shock sometimes made people do stupid things. Some wealthy patron of the chantry, or perhaps an ambitious Revered Mother might just be inclined to hire an assassin to eliminate the Herald of Andraste.

A small part of Ana welcomed such an attempt, if she died here, than she would be free from all this madness.

She pushed such thoughts away.

She was not some pathetic waif. She had fought Templars, mages, and demons. Such a person did not wish to die in some alley in Val Royeaux.

Speaking with the chantry had not worked out for them, and speaking with Lizzy had really not worked out.

Hopefully this First Enchanter Vivienne would have more to offer than hostility and rejection.

That would at least make this trip worth it.

The Inquisition would still need to check out Grand Enchanter Fiona's invitation to Redcliffe, but that would be for another day, tonight, she wanted to bring at least something physical back to Haven, something besides Sera, and her promise of aid from the Friends of Red Jenny.

This First Enchanter to the Imperial Court could do that.

The guards led her up the gates of Duke Basten's estate. The Duke's men at the gate stopped them, at least until Ana presented her invitation.

They parted without another word, beyond a small: "Enjoy the party."

The herald nodded in the affirmative, she turned to her bodyguards…

The Inquisition soldiers promised they would remain until she returned. There orders from Sister Leliana were quite clear.

Ana nodded thanked them for their aid.

Hopefully it would not be needed.

She slipped into the estate, music and voices greeted her. She spotted many servants hurrying back and forth, doing their best to keep the Duke's guests happy.

Ana arched an eyebrow.

It seemed that Duke Basten's salon was not a small affair, and if he was friends with the First Enchanter, and she could bring him over to the Inquisition's side.

That would be a major victory to certain.

She stood before the doors, handing her invitation to the herald of the house, one herald to another so to speak.

All that she had to do now was wait, and listen for her formal introduction.

Then her true mission tonight could begin.

Nervousness tried to bubble up to the surface again; she feared the people here might react as Lizzy had in her presence.

Such thoughts did not help, but they were still there.

She pushed it back.

She stood straighter, checking her gloves and mask one last time.

Here we go, she thought.

The door swung open, the eyes of many fell upon her. She tried to remain calm.

It worked, she thought…

Well…mostly.

Breathe Ana, she thought.

Just…breathe…

"Presenting, Lady Anastasia Aliza of House Trevelyan!" one of the duke's servants called out, "Representing House Trevelyan of Ostwick, and the Inquisition."

Ana strode into the hall like she owned the place, she tried to appear aloof her hands crossed respectfully in front of her.

The hall was filled with brightly dressed Orlesian nobles and their courtiers. All clad in their finest suits and gowns. Masks of every shape and style turned towards her stood on the dais for all to see.

She swallowed hard; a hint of stage fright sprang up in her breast.

Surprisingly, it was the voice of her mother that saved her from totally losing her composure.

Old lessons died hard it seemed.

"Never forget who you are Anastasia. You are not just some poor knight from the provinces of the empire, you are a Trevelyan. If nobles are stars then we are something else, something much more…

We, my daughter, are suns.

It was those words that gave Ana strength now, as pompous as they sounded; they gave her something to cling to. She was no less than anyone else here.

She was a Trevelyan.

She was an agent of the Inquisition.

She was the herald of the Inquisition, the Herald of Andraste!

Even if she did not believe it herself…

…She would make sure these people believed it.

It was good for the cause, a cause she was starting to believe in.

She would not disappoint her allies back in Haven.

Tonight she would be strong.

Tonight she would be the Herald, and Maker help anyone who thought otherwise.

So she walked in, into a sea of gliding predators.

Andraste guide her now.

IOI

It took some time, but slowly the Orlesians began to accept her presence among them. As Ana mingled she did all she could to put her best foot forward.

At first they looked at her like she was an oddity, They found her presence intriguing, one saying that it was always good when new faces attended these parties. Seeing the same faces constantly was so…boring.

Ana smiled at that.

She suggested that the man come and visit Haven, after seeing that quaint little village, he would never think Val Royeaux boring again.

Her comment seemed to please the nobles, she had hoped it might, she remembered how she felt the first time she had seen Haven, how bored she thought she would be during the Conclave…

After all that she had seen, all that she had done since the explosion…she wished now that it had remained boring…

She wished it more than anything.

For their part, the nobles attending this gathering were quite curious about her. Many had heard the tales coming out of Haven, the tales of her exploits both there and in the Hinterlands.

Some of these tales made Ana want to laugh.

One baron told her that he had heard that she rode out of the fade on a chariot made of flame.

An old Comtess told her that she heard that when Ana stepped out of the fade every statue of Andraste in Ferelden wept true tears.

A young dame had heard that Andraste had gifted Ana a magic sword, a sword that could either kill or heal with a single touch of its sanctified blade.

She politely laughed at these tales, reminding those that told her, that the best stories are often riddled with embellishments, and exaggerations.

"But only for the best effect," a young noble woman reminded her.

Ana nodded.

She supposed that was true.

A hint of a smirk came to her face, she wondered if Varric had a hand in these wild tales.

She made a point to ask him about it later.

She also took the time to learn a little about their host. Duke Basten was much respected here in the capital, his only shame coming recently when his former son in law had started a civil war in the Dales. Many of the nobles here felt that it was only a matter of time until Gaspard fell to Celene's forces. Then the Empress would return and start putting her house back in order.

Of first Enchanter Vivienne she heard only a little, known as Lady De Fer to the members of the royal court, Vivienne was held in high esteem here in the capital. She was said to be a woman of great strength and loyalty, a woman of convictions.

A woman of convictions, Ana thought.

That could be useful to be sure.

"Tell me Lady Trevelyan," a young knight said, "Is this…breach thing as large as everyone claims?"

Her face turned serious.

"It is quite large ser, and the fade rifts it causes are more than dangerous, spewing demons and spirits across the land. Val Royeaux has been most fortunate that one has not appeared overhead here. I can only imagine what kind of havoc the demons would cause if they were loose on the streets."

Several of the nobles shuddered, a few even nodded, agreeing with her.

The Herald smiled.

"The Inquisition will do what we can to seal the breach, and close all these fade rifts forever. We…"

A sharp bark of a laugh interrupted her, all eyes turned to the stairwell, and a young man wearing the markings of a full Marquis coming down them.

He sneered at Ana, a sneer visible even with his mask.

"The Inquisition," he snorted, "What a load of pig shit! It is just a collection of crazed seekers and washed up sisters!"

She smiled at him.

"We are all entitled to our opinion, my lord," she replied, "But the breach goes beyond mere opinion. The Inquisition is at least in a position to fight it. We are only trying to restore order."

Again the man snorted.

"Oui?" he said, "An outsider restoring order, with an army. Such things will not work well here in Orlais Lady Trevelyan. The Empire will not stand for it."

Ana did not let her smile falter; she had been prepared for this. Leliana had warned her about the fact that some noble might start feeling it was his duty to stand up to the Inquisition, even if he had no idea what he was standing up for…

Ana had not been surprised by that. She remembered something her father had told her years ago.

"In Orlais, a party is not a party until some blood is spilled. You must be careful that it does not become your own."

Ana had no intention of being drawn into a conflict with this fool, but that did not mean that she intended to let him get away with it either.

"Indeed," she replied, "I can understand why no one wants a foreign army marching through their homeland. Ask the Fereldans after all, I'm sure they would agree with you."

The man tensed, slightly, it was small, but it was there.

Ana continued smirking at him.

It seemed she had scored a hit after all.

The nobles surrounding the two of them began to part, no doubt sensing the tension between the two nobles.

She glanced at the dueling sabre on the Marquis' belt. She had not worn a sword tonight herself, but that did not mean that she was unarmed. She had a small stiletto in her glove, and a dagger strapped to her right thigh…

She had no desire to see bloodshed, but if this pushed her on it…

She would have no choice but to oblige him.

He got up in her face, which was not an easy thing seeing that she was almost a head shorter. He was quite tall for an Orlesian.

He glared down at her.

"If you are any kind of woman of honor, I would see such insult answered."

Ana shrugged.

"I meant no insult Marquis. I was merely agreeing with you…."

She leaned in close, so that only he could hear her.

"It is not like Orlais has any reason to fear Ferelden," she whispered, "It is not like they have ever defeated your armies...I…wait…they did. Didn't they?"

The young man snarled, he stepped back and started drawing his dueling blade.

Ana crossed her arms, one quick move and she would have her stiletto drawn and ready.

She had not wanted this. She had not come here for this, but this fool had given her no choice.

If he sought a battle, he would…

The nobleman gasped. The nobles turned suddenly, drawn by the sound.

The young man stood frozen, a strange cool light surrounded him, his arm was stuck, his hand half way to drawing his sword.

From the steps above them, came a cultured sounding laugh.

"My dear Marquis, May I please ask what you are doing? Surely you know that Lady Trevelyan is my guest?"

Ana's eyes went up the stairs.

The woman walking down was quite tall, clad in fine robes of silver and white. Her pointed headdress and mask sparkled with glittering gems and silver filigree. Her skin marked her of Rivaini blood, but Ana recognized her accent, as being a western Free Marcher, Wycome perhaps, or maybe Hercinia.

All bluster went out of the Marquis' face, not that Ana blamed him. The man was quite literally a fly stuck in a web…

…and the spider was coming down to claim her prize.

"Lady Vivienne," he stammered, "I…I'm sorry. I didn't know."

The mage chuckled.

"What you knew or not knew is now irrelevant my dear. You have insulted my guest, and such an insult must be answered."

The elegant looking woman turned to Ana.

"What say you my dear? You are the grieved party here after all. Whatever shall I do with this foolish boy?"

Ana was once again grateful for her mask, it hid the fact that she had paled slightly.

If this was Ostwick, most of the nobles would have said that Vivienne was kidding, but this was not Ostwick, this was Orlais.

And Orlesians liked a little blood at their parties.

The Marquis had made a huge mistake. Insulting a guest who was personally invited by the host at a party was a major breach of etiquette. Most nobles understood that. None would likely lift a finger if this Lady Vivienne decided to execute the fool right here.

No mage in Ostwick would ever have attempted something like this, but if this woman was a member of the Imperial court, and with no Templars left in the city to stop her…

It seemed that the power of life and death had once again fallen into Ana's hands.

Lucky me.

She pretended to give it some thought, lightly tapping her chin. She could not afford to show any weakness here. Her role as an agent of the Inquisition depended on it.

She had to appear strong, even if she did not feel it right now.

The young marquis was sweating now; she could only imagine how afraid he was.

Finally, Ana smiled.

"I believe you have learned your lesson," she cooed, trying to sound as bland and uninterested as possible. "As Herald of Andraste, I grant this man his life."

Even beneath her mask, Ana could see that Vivienne was smiling.

"By the grace of the Maker," she began, "You are granted your life, my dear."

She snapped her fingers.

The stasis field around the boy collapsed, he fell gasping to his knees.

Vivienne smiled down on him, a feral predatory smile.

"Try to be more careful with it," she advised.

Nodding vigorously, the man staggered to his feet fleeing for the door.

Ana quirked her lips.

The looks on the faces of her fellow guests…

Perhaps she should have let Vivienne kill the poor boy.

It likely would have been kinder for him.

The mage turned to her, a warm smile on both her face and shining in her eyes.

She curtsied.

"I bid you welcome Lady Trevelyan," she said with great flourish. "I am Lady Vivienne De Fer, First Enchanter of Montsimmard, and Enchanter to the Imperial Court of Orlais."

Ana returned the greeting.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Vivienne, as a representative of the Inquisition, you have my thanks and my regards for your…intervention in that unfortunate…incident."

The mage chuckled.

"Think nothing of it my dear, but if I may, may I ask you to accompany me to my dear Basten's study. We have much to talk about, I think."

"Such as," Ana inquired.

"Why the only thing that matters dead," she replied, "The future of Thedas."

She gave Ana a conspiratory smile.

"I trust that **that** interests you."


	9. Opportunities

**Chapter 9: Opportunities**

"It…it is all a bit…_rustic_…isn't it my dear?'

The herald responded to her comment with a small laugh.

"Rustic wasn't the word I used when I first saw this place Lady Vivienne," Ana said softly.

"Really, and what words did you think best describe this…_lovely_ place?"

The girl bowed her head, she might have been blushing slightly, but…still answered the question.

"I…I called It…. a…um… frozen hole."

The First Enchanter of Montsimmard smirked. She did not laugh out loud, but could not help but think the girl's words more than amusing.

_A frozen hole_, this place was most definitely that.

How fitting that the Herald of Andraste understood that.

It seemed that she had been right about choosing this path, the girl was no fool, and...

It appeared that the Lady Ana had a most excellent sense of observation.

The mage stepped forward, wrapping her heavy cloak tighter around herself. All around them before the step of Haven work progressed, soldiers trained, blacksmiths turned base metal into armor and weapons, and all the while a small honor guard kept watch over the Lady Ana and the new arrivals.

Despite Haven's rather limited appearance, it was an impressive sight to be sure, but if they were not careful it could also become quite irrelevant. If the Inquisition could not do as it claimed and seal the breach…

Then all of this, all of the work, her own sacrifices in coming here…

….It would not matter.

Vivienne pursed her lips.

The village of Haven spread out before her, the cold wind ruffling the fur on the neck of her cloak, the very same cloak that her dear Bastien gifted her before their last winter holiday together. She had many fond memories of those times, Bastien's work on the council of heralds kept him quite busy…

Any time that they spent together was more than precious, they were treasured memories shared under a bright yellow moon.

Vivienne enjoyed her life, a life that she wished to see continue, not simply in spite of the circle but because of it…

…A life worth preserving.

It had all been so good, she had enjoyed it, times full of light and possibilities, but now…thanks to Kirkwall, and thanks to the conclave…

That life was now gone.

The very thought brought a frown to her features.

With no circle there was no reason for the Empress to maintain an Enchantress to the Imperial court. Without the circle, the power and prestige she had gathered would be less than nothing. The war started by her fellow mages and the Templars would destroy what she had spent a lifetime building. It did not matter which side won in the end. No matter who achieved victory, she would lose; she would lose it all…

She did not intend to let that happen.

Lady Trevelyan stood at her side. The young noble turned warrior had shocked many people with her actions here. The girl was quite young, make no mistake of that, but excellence knew no age requirement. She had read the reports from her agents in the Val Royeaux marketplace; the girl had stood up not only to the foolish Mother Hevara, but the Lord Seeker as well. Ge might dismiss her, but he would find that he would not be able to ignore her for long.

The people of Thedas were talking, the girl was special, not only by surviving the destruction of the Conclave that had claimed so many, but by having gained the ability to seal the fade rifts that now bedeviled all of Thedas.

The mage pursed her lips. The girl was a rising star, and the circle, if it needed to survive needed to stay close to her, to be carried in her wake, if she could do that.

Then everything that she had believed in would be safe, it might even be enhanced…

Vivienne smiled.

It was a chance that she could not ignore, unlike Mother Hevara; she saw which way the winds were blowing.

The mage was a woman of vision.

She shook her head

The chantry should have supported the Trevelyan girl, they should have thrown their full support behind this fledging Inquisition, but instead they wept at the loss of the Divine and the betrayal of their Templars. So lost in grief and pride that they did not see what was happening in the world around them.

Only a fool or a coward chooses to hide when they have the power to make a difference, to reshape the world as they see fit.

The inquisition was in a position to act, and for that reason. Vivienne stood with them.

As she had told the girl back in Bastien's estate, she would stand tall and face her enemy, with both her mind and her magic….

Both were formidable weapons indeed.

Once the chantry would have turned to the mages to deal with such a problem, the breach would have easily fallen into the circle's mandate, for years the circle and the chantry had worked together quite well. The priests protecting the souls of the faithful, while the circle provided the raw power to keep the chantry's many enemies at bay. Enemies like the Qunari and the Tevinter Imperium.

Vivienne would see those days return. She would see the mages back within the circle. She would see them all reminded of Andraste's commandment.

_Magic is to serve man, never to rule over him._

The truth of those grand words was never lost on her, even if the rest of the First Enchanters chose to ignore it, no matter.

Vivienne smiled.

They would remind the rebel mages the truth of their failing soon enough. They would return to their place, and then she would be able to return to hers.

That was all that mattered.

She found herself walking at Lady Trevelyan's side. As the girl made her way past the many soldiers most looked up and took note of her. The Herald tried to ignore them, but it was clear that those looks did not go unmarked.

Vivienne shook her head.

Did the child not realize the power she possessed? All she had to do was embrace it, and there was no limit to what she could do. If the common soldiers of the Inquisition was any judge…

This girl was their beacon of hope; they looked upon her with awe. She could use that to rise to the greatest of heights.

All she had to do was accept it, when she did, the circle would be there. She would be there.

…Ready to reap the benefits, and claim the rewards.

It was the way of the world after all.

IOI

"My Lady Herald?"

Ana froze, and immediately cursed herself for doing so.

_Makers' breath, did he have to do __**that?!**_

Cullen made his way through the crowd of training soldiers, as always surrounded by a gaggle of advisors and scouts making reports. Ana willed herself to be strong and not make a fool of herself as she had the last time the two of them had spoken.

After everything that had happened in Orlais, surely she could do that.

The others had vanished upon their arrival. Cassandra had told her to meet her at the chantry; they would need to summon the war council to discuss what had happened in Val Royeaux. Varric took Sera to Flissa's tavern, both to get a drink and, she suspected to keep the elf out of trouble. Solas slipped off where ever it was he chose to go when he was not out in the field with her. Few even acknowledged his passing.

She was a bit envious of that.

Madame Vivienne remained at her side, a curious look on her face, the mage no doubt wishing to see just what she had bought with her loyalty. They had spoken quite a bit on the trip back to Ferelden.

The Orlesian Enchantress wished to see the circle restored; she believed strongly that the mages needed it to remain a power in Thedas. She looked to the Inquisition to see that done.

Ana was not so sure.

She had known only a few mages in her time, several Trevelyans over the years had been sent to the circle. She had even known a few, many more sons and daughters had become Templars. The mages of Ostwick had likely had it better than some of their brethren. Four years ago a cousin of hers had paid mother a visit. He had been six or seven years her senior and had been in the circle since he was a small boy.

He had seemed happy, but even then the news coming out of Kirkwall had been straining the relationship between Templar and mage. After the chantry explosion in Kirkwall, the circle had been changed forever; no mage cousins came to visit. Letters from Templar sons and daughters became much harsher as the order attempted to prevent a second Kirkwall from happening.

Ana was no fool; she had paid attention to those rumors. It was impossible not to, fear had begun to spread, and with it…anger.

After events like that…it was hard for things to go back to the way they were…Kirkwall had changed the face of the world…

…There was no going back.

What was next for the mages of Thedas, she could not say. It was a question that would need to be answered.

Provided she survived the next few moments that is.

Be strong, she thought.

Be strong.

"Commander," she said with a slight nod, "anything I need to know?"

Cullen paused; his eyes fell on Vivienne, cold evaluating her presence.

_Uh oh_, Ana thought.

_This could be bad._

"Allow me to introduce myself Commander," the mage purred, "I am Vivienne, First Enchanter of Montsimmard and Enchantress to the Imperial Court of Orlais."

She offered him her hand.

The Commander paused, evaluating the gesture.

The Herald had feared that Cullen might say something rude; it was not that he hated mages, but he was most definitely leery of them.

"Enchanter," he said in a cool respectful voice, he raised her hand to his lips but did not kiss it, "Welcome to Haven, if the Herald believes that your presence will aid us, I welcome it."

The mage laughed politely.

"You would be surprised if you knew all the things I could do to aid you my dear, but for now, I will leave the two of you to discuss business. I need to see to my charges anyway, make sure that they are not getting lost.

She gave them both a slight curtsey and drifted away like a gentle breeze.

Ana shook her head.

She wished that she could make an exit like that.

She returned her attention to Cullen, trying to ignore the pounding in her heart.

When the mage was out of earshot Cullen made his report.

"We have been gaining more recruits every day," he informed her, "Mostly refugees from the Hinterlands and or pilgrims coming to see…well…see what you are intending to do to save us."

Ana winced.

"I need to speak with Leliana. She should really not be raising me up on such a high pedestal. If I make a mistake, the whole world might blame the Inquisition for it."

She shook her head.

"I can't allow that to happen."

Cullen gave her a sympathetic look.

"People need hope Milady. We need to trust that Ambassador Montilyet and Sister Leliana know what they are doing."

She laughed nervously.

"It is not them I'm worried about," she admitted with a shy smile.

"It is me."

He did something then that almost made her melt.

He smiled, not a large one, but still…warm honest.

"You are doing well Milady," he said, "Everyone is talking about your successes in the Hinterlands, stay that course and you should be fine."

She nodded dumbly.

He has a nice smile, she thought, a very nice smile.

"Milady?"

Ana blinked.

Wait, what?

Cullen was giving her a curious look.

She cursed silently.

She had done it again, acting like some lovesick peasant girl.

Kill me now, she thought.

Somebody shoot me now!

Cullen said nothing, choosing to focus on his report.

"As the Inquisition grows we will need to decide where best to place everyone. Many have come with some rather interesting skill sets. None made the impression that you did with their arrival, but…"

She tried to laugh lightly like Vivienne had, but it came out more as a nervous giggle.

Again she thought about kicking herself.

"It wasn't my choice, commander."

Cullen snorted.

"I would be worried if you said it was."

Another scout came running up with a report for him; he read it quickly and sent the boy on his way.

Ana waited.

"There was a mercenary wandering around here earlier," he said dismissively, asking to speak with the Herald. Lady Josephine asked him to wait near the chantry. He may still be there now."

Ana nodded, grateful for something to do besides ogling the handsome commander.

Again she cursed her weakness.

What in Andraste's name was wrong with her? Cullen likely thought her some doe eyed cow.

It was better that she stay away from him, maybe then she would not feel like such a fool.

She lowered her head, and started walking quickly away.

"Milady Herald?"

She paused, not wishing to meet his gaze, not wanting to see how badly she had embarrassed herself in his eyes.

"Yes…Commander?"

When she did glance up, his expression surprised her, it was…warm…

"Welcome back Milady."

She nodded, turning away before he could notice the redness coming to her cheeks.

It had been such an innocent comment, but…

She smiled slightly.

There were opportunities in it, weren't they…?

…Many opportunities indeed.


	10. To Serve

**Chapter 10: To Serve**

"**OOOF!"**

All the air rushed out of Ana's lungs, the hard boot to the belly sent her reeling, even with the hard leather training vest. She staggered back, she backpedalled, trying to keep her shield up, trying to hold onto her sword. It proved impossible, but at least she made the attempt.

Her feet went out from underneath her. She went down hard on the packed snow; she came down, ending up in a sitting position before her opponent.

She tried to bring her sword up, like Cassandra had shown her, it would buy her time and allow her to keep fighting.

Her opponent beat her to the punch though, he was **too** fast. His blade thrust through her weakened guard, and ended up pointed directly at her chin, forcing her onto her back.

She lay there on the cold ground, her armor doing little to protect her from that. Her opponent stared grimly down at her. Their eyes locked, making her blood race and her breath quicken.

Cullen gave her a questioning look.

Ana raised her hands in surrender.

"I yield," she proclaimed.

The commander nodded, and planted his blade in the snow.

Despite it being gone, Ana still did not feel at peace. She tried to will her heart to slow down, to find her center like her trainer back in Ostwick had showed her.

That calm did not come easily, not around the commander, not around Cullen.

She shook her head.

_Ending up on my back with Cullen pointing his sword at me…hm…_

A hint of a blush started, as well as memories of last night's dreams, which threated to turn the blush into a full on explosion of red, she managed to hold that back. It was not as bad as could have been…but…

_Andraste save me, _she thought.

_This…this really should __**not **__be getting me excited should it?_

Fortunately Cullen did not seem to notice her discomfort.

_Praise the Make for small favors._

"Good," Cullen said in his commander's voice, "You held onto your weapons, and kept your guard up."

She gave him a sheepish look.

"You still beat me," she reminded him.

"Perhaps, but you still maintained control. In a real fight, had you maintained hold of your weapons you would still have a chance to turn the tables, or at least survive."

He gave her an encouraging look. He offered her his hand. She took it, letting him pull her to her feet. For one brief moment she found herself in his arms, their noses almost touching, and his strong arms on her waste.

She swallowed hard, staring into those hard predator's eyes.

_Oh Maker._

She pulled back before she could embarrass herself further. If he noticed he said nothing. He remained focused on their training session.

"The ability to keep that control, do not underestimate the value of that."

She nodded dumbly, not really hearing his words.

She swallowed hard.

_Those __**arms**__…those __**eyes**__…oh Maker_, she thought.

_I'm in __**serious **__trouble!_

Usually she spent her time training with Cassandra. The warrior woman seemed intent on teaching her everything she knew about the sword and shield. Ana was grateful for that; the Seeker had spent more the twenty years surviving on the battlefield. She likely knew more about the art of the blade then House Trevelyan's own weapon master.

Ana was eager to absorb all that knowledge.

Unfortunately, Leliana had needed to speak with her new mentor; Ana had found herself in the training yard alone. She spent a short time helping with the new recruits, mostly locals from Haven or pilgrims come to aid the cause.

Cullen had been out here as well, he had agreed to spar with her. That is how they ended up in this situation…

That is how she came so close to embarrassing herself…yet again.

She backed up, raising her sword and shield, dropping into a fighting stance.

The commander followed suit.

"Cassandra has done well," he commented, "Your skill with a blade is quite impressive."

Ana smiled, basking in his praise.

"Cassandra has helped," she admitted, "But I've been studying the marshal disciplines for a quite a while now. My family's master at arms taught me. Ser Geoffrey said I had a talent for it."

Cullen gave her that little smile again, the one that threatened to make her melt into a puddle.

She laughed nervously.

"You should not be surprised," she said quickly, "My time in Ostwick was not spent entirely spending money and chasing boys."

Ana's eyes widened.

_Andraste's ass, had…had she really said __**that!**_

She tried to backpedal.

"Not that I chased a lot of boys," she added quickly, "Don't get me wrong, boys are good, men too, not that I spent a lot of time on that kind of thing. I like men and…and…"

She stopped Cullen. Cullen looked amused.

She was now blushing pure scarlet.

"I'll just shut up now," she sighed in surrender.

Cullen chuckled.

"It is okay," he said, "It is nice to hear about your life before all this, to see that you were not always the herald. It makes you seem more…reachable somehow."

She winced.

"I seem _unreachable_?"

"Some of the recruits see you that way," he confessed, "The stories they have heard about you. Legends grow quickly in military orders. It was like that in the Templars as well."

Ana lowered her blade. It was rare that she had a chance to speak with Cullen outside of the war council, even rarer that she was not putting her foot in her mouth around him. As long as the conversation remained on combat and military matters she should be fine…

…at least she hoped so.

"What is it like," she asked, "Being a Templar?"

Cullen shrugged.

"If you are trying to discover the order's current motivations, I'm a poor example," he admitted, "If I knew those answers I would be with them now. As for my own experiences, I spent most of my time working in the circle, first here in Ferelden and then in Kirkwall."

The commander winced.

"If I had been stronger, maybe I would have stood up to Knight-Commander Meredith sooner, maybe…maybe all this could have been avoided."

Ana gave him a sympathetic look.

"From what I have gathered from Varric, that wasn't your fault. This Knight-Commander Meredith seemed intent on pushing the mages into open rebellion."

Cullen's eyes narrowed.

"I still should have done something," he growled, "I still should have said something. Had I even tried, things…things might have been different. Maybe I would not have failed so spectacularly, maybe I could have stopped it. Maybe…maybe I could have saved them…she deserved better."

His last words made Ana pause.

She?

Cullen shook his head, pain passed over his face like a passing storm. Quickly he was back in control.

"It does not matter now," he said grimly, "I have a new purpose, these recruits, this Inquisition, we have a chance to change the course of history. Our recruits would be a part of that, we can make it happen…we…"

He chuckled.

"I'm sure you do not need to hear a lecture.

She laughed lightly.

"If you have few prepared, I would be tempted to listen," she said with a warm smile.

Her respond made the Commander pause, he met her warm gaze.

For the first time since they had met, it was he that looked away first.

"I…um," he looked down at the snow, "I…I will try to keep that in mind…Milady."

She smiled.

The shyness as he spoke just now, it…it was quite endearing it…

"Commander Cullen! Ana!"

The two jumped turning quickly, like they had been doing something forbidden.

Cassandra was striding towards them. All shyness and awkwardness left the two warriors, around the Seeker they were all business.

"Seeker Pentaghast," Cullen said coolly, his mask of command firmly back in place.

"Cassandra," Ana said with a slight nod.

"We are summoning the war council," the warrior woman said, "Leliana's agents have discovered some things that require our attention."

Ana and Cullen both nodded, they agreed to meet with the others in the chantry in one hour.

Ana made her way to her cabin; she wanted a chance to change before the meeting. She tried to stay focused on the business at hand, but something was nagging at her.

What Cullen had said about the circle…?

_Maybe I would not have failed so spectacularly, maybe I could have stopped it. Maybe…maybe I could have saved them…she deserved better._

_**She **__deserved better._

Ana pursed her lips.

Who was she, and how had Cullen failed her?

It was an interesting question, but one that would wait until later.

Now, she had work to do, they had work to do.

IOI

An hour later she stood with the rest of the war council as they stood around what she referred to as the command table, a map of Ferelden, and Orlais spread out before them.

Ana glanced around at her fellow council members, she had to admit, she had been a little intimidated in their earlier meetings. At nineteen she was the youngest member, and everyone else had had so much experience with…well…everything.

Cullen had been a Templar captain; he had served with two circles. Ambassador Montilyet had served in the Orlesian royal court. Cassandra had been right hand of the Divine for almost twenty years. Leliana, beyond being their spymaster was…well…she had done more than anyone here…

She was a hero, a legend.

Ana tried not to meet the woman's eyes.

When they had first met, she had not realized that Sister Leliana had been **thee** Sister Leliana, one of the heroines of the Blight.

It was a little intimidating truth be told.

Ana Trevelyan had still been a child during the Blight, only nine years old. In the decade since the Archdemon fell, the stories of the heroes of the Blight had turned into legends. Leliana was a part of those legends, she had known those people, had fought beside them and called them friends.

Ana shook her head.

What did a noble girl from Ostwick matter in the face of that, even if she did have a magical mark upon her hand?

Leliana had stood would this legends, with the Hero of Ferelden.

She had stood with the Warden Queen.

Ana could not deny it; she had grown up revering Elissa Cousland-Theirin. She had been more than just a hero; she had become the stuff of legend, the woman who had united men, elves, mages, and dwarves into single host, the woman who had taken the Archdemon's head.

How many of her childhood games had been centered on the warden? How many times had she imagined herself in the hero's boots…?

…Many…to be certain.

Then of course, there was the king, she thought with a slight smile.

King Alistair had his place in legend to.

Ana remembered the first time she had seen a painting of Fereldan's legendary ruler, that dark blond hair, those kind puppy dog eyes.

She smiled slightly.

She could not deny it, her first crush growing up had been on Ferelden's king, and she had not been alone, many girls of her generation had no doubt been smitten with him, and perhaps a little envious of the warden queen's position, both as queen, and as the king's lover.

"Lady Trevelyan?"

Ana hiccupped.

Oh Maker, she had done it again!

She had been caught daydreaming when she should have been tending to business.

"I'm sorry Lady Josephine," she blinked, "You were saying?"

The Antivan woman smiled.

"I was saying that we need to do something about your Cousin Reynard."

Ana blinked.

"I have a cousin Reynard?"

Leliana giggled.

Ana felt a blush come to her cheeks.

"I have a big family," she said, "Mother required that I know the names of the first three tiers of our family tree, but I don't remember a Cousin Reynard."

Josephine looked down at her pad of parchment.

"Well, he claims to know you, close friends, apparently," the Ambassador added, "During a recent salon in Ostwick he threatened a rival by claiming that his beloved cousin Anastasia would bring the Inquisitions troops again the man."

Ana frowned.

Leliana shook her head.

"This should not come as a surprise," she said, "The herald's fame is spreading."

The spymaster's mouth became a grim line.

"I have agents in Ostwick. They will have…a talk with this young man."

Ana winced.

"Sister please," she said, "I know we have to protect our interests, but after the business with my sister in Orlais…well…"

The herald fidgeted.

"My sister already believes us responsible for a great many things. Please, please do not start hurting my cousins; it won't win us any allies among my clan. Lizzy might even convince my Mother to oppose us openly."

She gave the spymaster a pleading look.

"I can't fight my own family, please don't ask that of me."

Leliana gave Ana a reassuring look.

"The boy will not be harmed," she promised, "But…he will be _reminded _that the Inquisition does not like having our name used so…frivolously."

Ana sighed with relief.

One crisis averted it seemed.

The meeting turned to more mundane matters. The Inquisition was currently involved with choosing the Duke of Lydes. Leliana and Josephine had a noble in mind; it was now simply a matter of neutralizing two of her relatives. Both Cullen and Leliana had ideas on how to do that. Plus, the spymaster had come to them with a disturbing report. Apparently all the Grey Wardens in Ferelden and Orlais had vanished. That was not unusual given the enigmatic nature of the order, what had raised so many questions that the disappearances had happened just before the explosion at the Conclave.

Leliana pursed her lips.

She had friends among the wardens. She clearly did not want to believe them involved in this, but evidence was evidence.

It would require investigating.

There had been reports of warden movements along the Storm Coast. Scouts were already being dispatched. She had also received reports of a warden named Blackwall moving through the Hinterlands.

Ana volunteered to try and locate him.

There was also the matter of the Bull's Chargers, a mercenary company looking for work. Their leader, this Iron Bull had asked to speak with the Herald about long term employment. Given the Inquisitions need for strong soldiers, Ana did not see how she could refuse, plus there were reports of fade rifts up there.

Those needed her attention as well.

Then there was the horse situation, the Inquisition had been trying to contact Redcliffe's old horse master for weeks, but the western hinterlands were still a mess. The last caravan that had tried to reach the farmlands where the master made his home had ended up slaughtered, apparently the work of rogue Templars or apostate mages.

Ana frowned at the news.

"This cannot be allowed to continue," Cassandra said coldly.

"I agree," Cullen nodded, "We have gained some recruits from both groups, but lately those recruits are few and far between."

"Perhaps we can send some of our Templars and mages to parlay with them," Josephine offered.

"Would either side listen?" Cassandra asked.

"With the right people perhaps," the Ambassador replied.

Ana said nothing, not because she had nothing to say, but because she was building up her courage.

She did not like what she had in mind, but she saw no way around it.

The herald sighed.

"We purge them," she whispered.

Her fellow councilors all turned.

"Pardon me?" Josephine said.

"No parlay, no more chances," Ana said with a colder voice.

She looked at Leliana.

"Do our agents know where the apostates and rogue Templars are hiding?"

"They do," the spymaster replied, "The Templars are near the west road to the farmlands. The apostates have a camp in Witchwood."

The herald nodded.

"Then are choice is clear, we go in and we purge them all."

The war council fell silent. Ana knew they all saw her as the voice of moderation here. She did not like getting blood on their hands when it was not necessary.

Unfortunately this was not the time for moderation.

The herald sighed.

"Please don't think I like this idea," she said, "I don't. If we could do this clean then I would be the first to say let's do it, however, I don't believe that is possible."

She moved a soldier marker on the map towards Witchwood.

"We have been more than patient with the rogue Templars and apostates in the Hinterlands. We have given quarter when they have surrendered. We have healed their wounded, and even offered some a chance to join us, and still these raids against our forces, refugees, and merchants continue. This behavior can no longer be tolerated."

Ana leaned back, she felt a little heartsick, but she did not let that stop her.

If life was to continue, drastic measures were called for.

"I wanted to do this clean, but they have given us no choice. All that were willing to join us likely have by now. The rest need to be dealt with, it is the only way we are going to help the refugees in the Hinterlands.

She shook her head.

"It is the only way that we can make things safe for those poor people."

The rest of the council considered her advice.

Cassandra responded first.

"I agree with the herald. We do this."

Leliana nodded.

"My agents will find the most up to date information when we…deal with this matter."

"Very well," Josephine nodded, "If this is the will of the council."

"My men will handle the matter," Cullen promised.

"No," Ana said, "I'll handle it."

Josephine blinked.

"Is that wise Milady, if you go into Redcliffe the mages there…"

Ana gave her a wan smile.

"You want me to appear blameless, or at least appear to be? Thank you Ambassador, but that won't be necessary."

Ana glanced at the map, at their next target…

…She sighed.

"I was informed recently that the soldiers are starting to see me as unreachable, if I'm to continue being the herald of the Inquisition that can't happen. Everyone must see that I'm not asking the soldiers to do anything that I'm not prepared to do myself."

Cullen coughed; he likely regretted telling her that.

He should not have been. It was what she needed to hear.

"Besides," she added, "I want to take Sera and Vivienne into the field, I need to see how they hold up under fire, if they can both obey orders. This business with the mages and Templars will be perfect for that."

She nodded.

"Who knows, I might even be able to reach Redcliffe's Horse Master, get those mounts are cavalry need."

Ana shrugged.

"That should be worth it in itself, no?"

Her allies looked around at each other silently.

Ana felt a brief surge of panic.

_Had she done the right thing? Typically she did not speak up at these meetings._

_Maybe she had pushed too hard too fast._

It was Cassandra that broke through all that, she gave Ana a proud look.

"I will accompany the herald. We shall test our new allies, find this warden, and reach this old Horse Master."

She gave the others a wolfish smile.

"WE can no longer afford to play around with those threatening innocents…"

"It is time to act."


	11. Idols and Wardens

**Chapter 11: Idols and Wardens**

"Are you all right Your Worship?"

Ana winced, she swallowed hard, trying to keep her breakfast down. Yet, she still did not look away, she wouldn't look away. She understood the value of taking responsibility for her own actions.

_She would __**not **__hide from that._

Once again she found herself in the Hinterlands; once again her armor and blades were colored with blood. She had led her allies and a group of Inquisition soldiers against the apostate mages hiding in Witchwood.

Those mages were all dead now.

One of the scouts had had an idea, once they were done purging the apostate mages and rogue Templars they thought it best to hang up some of the bodies as a warning, if any of the combatants' fellows escaped, they would see what had been done to their allies and perhaps think twice about continuing their little war here.

It was a little disturbing, and it was not the most decent thing she had ever seen, but she understood its value.

_Examples sometimes needed to be made_ her Mother had said once, of course she was referring to business, not war.

Of course, given the stakes, examples had their place in war too.

She glanced over at Ritts, the elven scout who had been speaking to her. Ana had saved the girl several months ago; she had been caught by a group of rogue Templars and almost killed. Ritts had been sporting with a young mage girl, who had been a part of this group…

The girl had been killed by the Templars, but not before she revealed her friends' secrets to her new lover, secrets that Ritts then shared with Inquisition. It had not given them the location of this little hideout, but it had pointed them in the right direction. It also allowed the elf to move up from the ranks of the scouts to being a full agent for the council; she had an easy charm that most people identified with.

It was extremely useful in her work.

Ritts' elven ears twitched, as she regarded her Herald.

"Your Worship?" she repeated.

Ana shook her head.

_Right, response, it would not be good for morale of the Herald of Andraste fell apart after a battle she had volunteered for…_

It would not be good at all.

Ana took a deep breath, not wanting to alarm the scout. She turned away from the…example the Inquisition was leaving behind.

"I'm…uh…yes…I'm fine Ritts," she said, putting on a small smile, "How are **our** people doing?"

"Our side suffered few scrapes and burns, but no casualties. I don't think the mages expected anyone to come after them here. They were too confident, they paid for that now."

When they came upon the group here, a small battle was already going on between a group of rogue Templars and the mages here. The Inquisition had attacked of course; Ana's plan to purge both sides had been ratified by the whole council, so the soldiers did not hold back.

Ana had led the charge herself, Sera and Vivienne remained in the back while Cassandra, the Herald and the rest of the soldiers struck hard at their enemies.

She did not hesitate this time.

Memories of the boy in the blue robes still haunted her, but she was able to keep her emotions under control. She did what Cassandra had suggested, she did not focus on the lives she was ending. She was focused entirely on the ones she was saving. The refugees and merchants that these people had been preying on deserved a chance to live without fear.

The Inquisition intended to give them that chance. Their herald intended to give them that chance.

These people had had their chance; they chose to continue down this course, despite the Inquisition's best efforts. Now they had to pay for that decision.

She struck fiercely, and without mercy.

It was done quickly, none were spared.

While they had been talking, one of the soldiers put a wooden sign over the dead, Ana read it, it made sense she supposed given why they had done this, and if she was a mage or a Templar she would understand the reason why.

The sign read: _They _refused _to accept the Inquisition's peace, so we _gave _it to them! Enemies of order __beware!_

The herald pursed her lips. The message was simple and to the point. She hoped that it would be heeded in the future.

She turned back to Ritts; the scout was still waiting for her orders.

"What do you need?" Ana asked.

"We found some supplies inside, ser," the scout answered, "Food, weapons, blankets, warm clothes, some coin too…"

Ana nodded.

Here at least she could do something she knew to be right.

"Have the lads take what they need to resupply. The rest needs to go to the refugees out on the crossroads. The blankets, food, and clothes go first, it got very cold again last night and those people likely could use it."

"Of course," The scout said with a quick bow, "Shall we sell it to the merchants there, or just give it as needed?"

"Distribute it," she answered, "It is the Inquisition's gift to them. Any news or skills that they can offer us in return would be appreciated, but it is not necessary."

Ana smiled, despite the grisly sight before her, these mages had died to protect these people, now their supplies were going back to their victims.

It made sense to her.

"Good will buys a lot more than coin, Ritts, sometimes."

The scout smiled.

"It will be done, Milady," she said nodding and placing her hand over her heart.

Ana returned the gesture. The scout paused, likely waiting for further orders.

"See that it is done," Ana said.

""Yes, Your Worship."

The elf hurried off, the herald sighed and shook her head.

She was not sure who had started the whole…'Your Worship' thing, probably began in the scouts, Hardings' people had more contact with her than most of the soldiers.

She did not completely approve of it. She played the role of the Herald of Andraste because it furthered their cause, the soldiers did not need to go around idolizing her like that.

It was damn hero worship again. The people needed hope, but that did not mean that she was Andraste reborn.

Such belief would only further antagonize the chantry and Maker save her if she started believing all this.

She had no desire to be worshipped, she just wanted to close the breach, find out what had happened at the Conclave and restore order.

Once that was done, she wanted to go home, provided the chantry and her family would allow her back.

Behind her came a sarcastic giggle. Sera stood there, idly flipping an arrow between her fingers. The Friend of Red Jenny had done her part, but that did not mean that she approved of the scout's attitude towards her superior officer, Ana might not have held any official rank, but her place on the council did gain some respect.

"Oh Your Worship, Your Worship," Sera sang mockingly, "You like that kind of shite Herald, that kind of talk could cost a person their breeches."

Ana sighed.

"I don't encourage that kind of talk Sera. As for liking it, well, I don't, I'm not the Maker or his Prophet."

The elf pursed her lips; the herald could almost imagine the wheels turning in the girl's head.

"It is kind of poncey though, yeah," she agreed, "I know you're all glowy and all that, but that kind of shite, it is not what the people people would hear."

The herald nodded, she agreed fully with the elf. She did not want to be an idol or a sacrifice.

She needed to keep her feet on the ground, having a few doubters in the group would help.

"That is why you are here, Sera," she said, "If I start believing all…this…well as you called it shite. I will need someone to knock me back down."

The elf giggled.

"Right, Herald, keep you from getting to big of a head. Let some of the air out once and a while. That will keep you down here with the rest of us."

It was at that moment that Cassandra and Vivienne joined them. The Seeker seemed pleased with how the battle had gone. The First Enchanter rolled her eyes at Sera.

"Ignore the girl, Herald," she advised, "The common soldier needs to see you as more than just a woman, there is nothing wrong with a little idolization from your lessers."

Sera glared at her. The elf and the mage did not get along. Sera seemed to have…issues with magic, almost as bad as she had with nobles. Vivienne seemed to enjoying aggravating the elf on both points.

Ana frowned.

If Vivienne was not careful, she would wake up one morning with lizards in her bedroll. Solas had already suffered that fate. Sera had not admitted that it was her, but she had giggled hysterically when it happened.

Ana turned to Cassandra. The Seeker pulled her aside.

The younger woman's brow furrowed.

"Have we found something?"

The warrior woman nodded.

"Our people have established a camp near Lake Luthias," she informed her, "One of the scouts spotted a small group of armed men near a cabin there, men being led by a man in full combat armor.

"That is not surprising," the Herald shrugged, "Probably another bandit group, we have seen enough of them out here."

"I thought the same, but the scout got closer, he said the man leading them is wearing heraldry, the sigil of the white griffon."

Ana smiled, she knew of only one group in Thedas who had taken the white griffon as their sigil.

It seemed that Leliana's spies had been proven right again.

"The warden we are looking for?"

Cassandra nodded.

Ana nodded, she turned away from the death scene behind her, Vivienne and Sera falling into step behind them.

They needed to get to the camp on Lake Luthias.

They needed to have words with a Grey Warden.

IOI

"Keep those shields up! You're holding, not hiding!"

The harsh voice boomed out over the waters of Lake Luthias. Ana and her allies made their way around the edge of Lake Luthias. The cabin quickly came into view, right where the scout said it was. She counted at least ten armed men and women, wielding swords and axes. They did not look like mercenaries, their clothes suggested farmers or servants.

Their leader had organized them into a skirmish line. He was stout and broad shouldered. He reminded her a bit of Ser Geoffrey, the man who taught her the sword back in Ostwick. His arms and armor looked worn, but well-serviced; this was clearly a man who had seen a lot of combat. She could also see a short black beard peeking out from the visor of his helmet.

His breastplate bore the mark of the white griffon, just like the scout had said.

Ana took a deep breath.

It seemed that they had found Warden Blackwall.

When she had mentioned this mission to Varric, he had looked a little worried.

Watch your ass out there kiddo. Wardens can be trouble, if this guy is on a mission for the order, he might not take kindly to you interrupting that.

Ana had nodded. She had seen wardens occasionally back in Ostwick. They had an enclave up in Ansburg, so occasionally they sent people into the neighboring cities to recruit.

The nobles gave them a very wide birth. Wardens were both respected, and feared.

The herald mustered her courage. The Inquisition had questions.

It was up to her to get the answers.

She emerged from the trees and made straight for the warden and his men.

"BLACKWALL!" she called out.

The man spun his sword and shield at the ready.

Ana raised her hands; she kept them well away from her weapons. She approached slowly, and carefully.

The man did not attack, but he still looked like a coiled spring, a lion ready to spring.

She paused before him.

"Warden Blackwall," she repeated.

The man snorted.

"How do you know my name girl?" he demanded, "Who are you?"

"My name is Ana," she informed him, "I'm an agent of the Inquisition, we have..."

Blackwall sprang.

Ana gasped, she tried to backpedal, her hand going for her sword. Blackwall brought up his shield and…

It took the arrow that had been heading right for her face.

The herald swallowed hard.

That…that…oh my!

That one likely had my name on it!

"Get to fighting or get away," the warden growled.

He turned to the armed men and women in front of him.

"Hold conscripts," he snarled, "We didn't start this fight, but we damn well will finish it!"

From the other side of the tree line came a group of bandits. Ana recognized them as members of the group that had been preying the refugees.

The Herald's eyes narrowed.

She could have died here, if not for the warden she…

Anger flashed in her blue eyes.

She drew her sword.

"SERA," she called out, "STICK AN ARROW IN THEIR GOBS!"

The elf leapt from cover, laughing manically. She fired two shafts at once.

Both found their targets.

Vivienne and Cassandra also emerged from cover. The First Enchanter's staff spat fire while the Seeker took up next to the warden's conscripts.

The bandits snarled curses at Blackwall, but the warden was unperturbed.

He wading into the bandits like a machine. No move was wasted. Every strike hit with maximum effect.

Ana had never seen a warden fight before; it was an impressive sight to see…

…Quite impressive indeed.

The fight was over quickly.

IOI

Later after the dead had been cleared and the wounded tended to, Ana and Blackwall spoke off to the side of the cabin.

The warden did not seem interested in socializing with his conscripts beyond simple combat. In fact, he was not interested in them at all, now.

He released them all after the battle was over.

The Warden removed his helmet. It revealed a face aged before its time, he was likely only in his thirties, but he appeared far older, something in his eyes.

The people he had conscripted had been refugees and farmers, the warden treaties with Ferelden still allowed such a thing, even if the Archdemon was ten years dead. These people, they had been prey for the mages, Templars and bandits for many weeks now.

Blackwall had conscripted them all. He had armed and trained them, using the very weapons that these people had been bedeviled with.

The next time someone threatened these people, they would not find a flock of sheep waiting to be sheared.

Next time, they would not need him.

IOI

Ana swallowed hard, trying to muster her courage. She had seen just how tough this man was.

She had no desire to insult him, but she still had questions.

The Inquisition needed to know what was going on with the wardens.

"Your people have vanished," she began, "Apparently this happened right before the Conclave, right before the Divine was murdered."

Blackwall snorted.

"Maker's balls girl, you think that we are responsible!"

She stood straighter, trying not to be intimidated.

Not an easy thing when dealing with a Grey Warden.

"We're not accusing anyone," she said, "We're merely investigating."

The warden shook his head.

"The order is not political girl," he sighed, "Perhaps they were called back to Weisshaupt, or some directive came down from there. We are not answerable to kings or queens. If we have gone silent there must be a reason."

"We were hoping that you might know that reason…um…Warden Blackwall…um…ser."

The warrior shook his head.

"I haven't seen another warden in months. I travel alone, recruiting. I…we…"

He shook his head.

"Wardens can inspire girl, we make people better. We show them exactly what they can do if they have the strength and courage. We…we wouldn't do what you are suggesting. We would not."

Ana frowned.

This man did not strike her as the type to lie. He was a warrior, a man of honor, or at least he was now.

She had heard the stories about the wardens of course. Before the last Blight they were often known to recruit criminals into their ranks.

Had that been the case here, with Warden Blackwall, she could not say for certain.

Besides it was none of her business.

This man said he knew nothing, she believed him.

This meant she had hit a dead end, she sighed.

"Thank you for your time Warden," she said placing her hand over her heart, "I will not take up any more of your time."

She turned to leave. She did not get far.

"Inquisition?"

She paused and turned. Blackwall was looking straight at her.

"Agent, the wardens…our disappearance, not being present for this is almost as bad as people thinking that we were involved."

"I suppose it is," she agreed, "A lot of people thought I played a part in the Divine's death. I survived the Conclave. I could not just leave after that. I needed to show that I wasn't."

The warden nodded.

"And now the Divine is dead, the sky is torn and everything is falling apart," Blackwall shook his head, "I might not be used to fighting demons, but find me someone who truly is."

The warden stood at attention.

"If you would have me, I would aid you if I can."

Ana's eyes widened.

"You want to join?"

"You could use the help, I suspect."

"Sure, but your just one warden what can you do on your own."

The man chuckled.

"Save the fucking world if I'm pressed, look agent you have seen my skills, plus, the treaties that I carry, promises of support, your people might have a use for such thing, yes?"

Ana nodded, she knew about the right of conscription, but beyond that. After the last Blight, a lot of people felt they owed the wardens. The fifth Blight had been the shortest in memory, less than a year.

People might help if they thought the Inquisition had warden support.

Ana offered her hand.

"Warden Blackwall," she smiled, "We would be honored if you stand with us."

Again the man laughed.

"Good to hear," he grinned, "Let the bastards that killed the Divine beware…

"This warden marches with the Inquisition."


	12. The Bull and the Red Head

**Chapter 12: The Bull and the Red Head**

"There up there chief."

Iron Bull gave a good natured chuckled. Where else was the Inquisition supposed to be? He leaned back against the rock on which he sat, taking in the scene as the rest of the Chargers got set to go to work. The journey here to the storm coast had been a little rough. Ferelden seas, the broken ships that lined the rocky coasts, not to mention those mercenary bastards that camped farther in the woods. They were a fierce lot, but fierce alone did not cut it, not when you had the training and experience the Bull's Chargers had. After a brief engagement, the locals left them alone. That pleased Bull just fine; he had not come here for them.

Those Tevinter scum camped down the coast from them, well…

…That was different.

The Qunari almost smiled, it seemed that he had been fighting Tevinters all his life. It was familiar and few in Thedas would say that it wasn't necessary. He wasn't sure why they were here, and it did not matter, slaving, gathering sacrifices, it did not matter.

After the chargers had been paid, it didn't matter, though he might have done the job for free if they had come across the Tevinters by accident. The demon loving mage lords had no place outside of their empire.

Iron Bull's expression turned predatory.

Cleaning out a nest of Tevinter mercenaries wasn't just a job in his eyes, it was public service, and it would also give their next perspective employer a chance to see just what they could do.

Iron Bull did not intend to disappoint.

Krem's report from Haven was what he expected, given what his contacts had told him. What had once been a site of religious pilgrimage had become a very active army camp. His lieutenant had done well describing the training that was going on in Haven, the blending not only of soldiers, but priests, mages, Templars, nobles, elves, and any other sod that had decided to take up the blade for the Inquisition's cause.

He had only been able to speak to one of the group's leadership, the young girl that everyone had taken to calling the Herald of Andraste. The lad had managed to confirm some of what Iron Bull's contacts had told him. The Herald was young, a noble born in the Marches and a good fighter apparently. Most of the Inquisition scouts and rank and file soldiers spoke well of her. She was said to have led several small campaigns in the Hinterlands, scattering the mage and Templar rebels in the area. Krem had at least been able to confirm the success of her efforts. The violence that they had been warned about in the Hinterlands seemed to have been dealt with. Inquisition patrols now held most of the area around Redcliffe firmly in their grip. Krem had been stopped several times by those patrols, fearing him some bandit or mercenary looking for work preying on the civilians there.

He had been able to convince them otherwise, Bull thought with a chuckle.

Cremisius Aclassi was a good soldier and a decent officer. If he wasn't he would not have been dispatched to Haven in the first place. The Chargers needed work, and he needed to get in close with the Inquisition.

Hopefully everyone would get what they wanted today.

"Well, we did invite them here Krem," the Qunari mercenary replied, "It's not surprising that they haven't come down to say hello, yet. They came to watch us work after all, speaking of which, have the boys finished scouting the Tevinter camp yet?"

The Tevinter born mercenary nodded.

"They have their camp set up along the far coast. Mostly sword and shield types, but a couple might be mages."

Iron Bull smirked and rose to his feet; he scooped up his battle ax in one large scarred hand.

"Sounds like they are expecting trouble," he said, "We should not disappoint them should we?"

Krem snapped to attention, saluting his commanding officer.

"As you say, chief."

"Good man," Iron Bull smiled.

He turned to the rest of his company, most had been resting, preparing when the order to move came.

"CHARGERS!" he bellowed.

It always served to get the men's attention.

That time **was** now.

"We got Tevinter bastards to kill, and a client in the hills eager to see what we can do. Let's not disappoint either of them. I want this carried out smooth and by the numbers. You all know your tasks, see to them as I know you can, and we will all come back alive, with coin in our pockets and wine in our bellies."

The soldiers rose, a few grinned at the prospect of future rewards, the rest, they looked upon him with grim determination, the look of seasoned soldiers. Most of these men had been with him a long time, and even the new recruits had learned quickly the value of following his orders.

It wasn't easy turning a bunch of rabble into a team, but he had managed it, now they just had to do their jobs.

Bull inspected his weapon one last time. A lot of people had fallen to his weapon over the years…

More than a few more were about to join them.

He glanced up at the cliffs north of them; the Inquisition was up there somewhere. There scouts might even be watching right now.

The Qunari chuckled.

If the Inquisition wanted a show…

…They were about to get one.

IOI

Ana led her small group down the rocks making for the coast. Behind her Varric, Blackwall, and Solas followed. Hardings' people had done an okay job of scouting the area, but they had lost contact with a group of soldiers in the sparse wilderness here. The locals had been harassing their patrols; it had gotten so bad that the Inquisition had not even been able to begin their search for the wardens that had been sighted in the area.

The herald sighed.

After the chaos of the Hinterlands she had hoped for a little more…peace this far north. Unfortunately that was not so.

Once again the Inquisition found itself surrounded by enemies. Until the mercenaries in the woods had been dealt with there would be no searching for the wardens. Add into that the two mercenary companies along the coast, reports of at least three fade rifts, and the rough terrain…

The Storm Coast was proving to be rough nut to crack.

As the Inquisition stepped onto the beach, the sounds of battle reached their ears. Not that that came as much of a surprise to Ana, it seemed fighting was everywhere these days. They followed the sounds, and soon found themselves in the middle of a pitched battle.

Behind her Varric snorted.

"Tevinters," he growled under his breath, he had Bianca drawn and ready.

Ana's eyes narrowed.

The Tevinter soldiers were easy to spot, their armor and weapon far too fancy to be simple sellswords. The people fighting them however…

Well…they were something different.

She assumed these were the Bull's Chargers. Their armor and weapons looked a little rough, but that did not take away from the skill she was seeing, the professionalism.

Since joining the Inquisition, she had seen all kind of fighters. She had come to recognize a professional soldier from a bandit simply bent on profit.

Before striking out of Haven, she had approached Sister Leliana about the Bull's Chargers. Aclassi had said they had had references in Orlais.

As always the spymaster had not disappointed. She had confirmed the group's reputation. When Ana had expressed concern about a Qunari leading a group of mercenaries, Leliana had merely laughed.

"Bring cookies," the former bard suggested, "It might make things go more…smoothly."

Ana blinked.

Cookies?

She scanned the battlefield; it was not hard to identify the Charger's leader. He stood out quite a bit. A massive man with huge bull-like horns stalked the battlefield like a war charger, where ever he swung his ax enemies fell.

"Their trying to escape," Blackwall growled behind her, she heard the sound of his blade leaving its scabbard.

The Herald followed suit.

The Tevinters were indeed trying to scatter, with the Chargers all engaged in smaller skirmishes, they had at least a chance to escape.

The Inquisition did not intend to give them that chance.

Solas rained fire down on the fleeing Imperials. Ana and Blackwall charged, using their shields as battering rams. She could not hit as hard as the barrel chested warden, but she did not need to. The Momentum of the fleeing Tevinters made all the difference, she slammed into her target, who had not been set to hold against a charge. The man went down hard.

Her blade made sure that he did not get back up.

Caught between two armed forces, the Tevinters had little chance of escape or victory.

The battle ended quickly.

IOI

"CHARGERS, STAND DOWN!"

Iron Bull's orders brought his men to a stop, for a moment they stood before the Inquisition forces, not really sure how to respond, but disciplined enough not to attack in bloodlust or panic.

The Qunari nodded in approval; once again his men had proved their skill.

"Krem," he called out, "How did we do?"

"Few injuries chief," the young man responded, "No dead."

"Good man, make sure the throat cutters finish their work, then break out the casks! Job well done!"

A few cheers went up from his soldiers, but Bull was no longer looking their way. His attention was drawn to the Inquisition soldiers approaching them, more importantly the girl leading them.

He smiled.

A red head, he thought, she would be a red head wouldn't she?

He had always had a thing for fire-tops.

"Iron Bull?" her voice was cultured, her accent, clearly not Fereldan, but that came as no surprise. His contacts were always thorough.

"I'm Iron Bull," he replied, "and you must be her, yes, the Herald of Andraste?"

The girl quirked her lip, a little color came to her freckled cheeks.

"So everyone says," she replied, she glanced and the silenced carnage around them, the battlefield slowly being cleared of Tevinter dead."

"Impressive," she nodded, "Your people know their business."

He smiled slightly, basking in the obvious praise.

He had been considering for some time how to handle this moment. The Inquisition's spy master was known to his contacts. It would only be a matter of time until the woman ferretted out who he truly was.

That gave him two options.

He could either continue to play the mercenary or try the truth.

His superiors back home wanted him the Inquisition, to get close to their leadership. He could do that as a mercenary, but…if…

If he was honest right from the beginning, it might avoid problems later. He had seen the girl fight, she might be young, but it was clear that she was not simply a little girl playing at war. She had training, and more to the point discipline, her companions looked to her after the battle was over, just as she looked to them. That spoke of loyalty, not the kind that was paid for, but actual caring for the Herald's well-being. It was clear that the Herald of Andraste was not simply a figure head for this Inquisition. She had both marshal prowess, and the loyalty of her people.

If he wanted to get in good with the Inquisition, here was the girl who could do it, and besides, he thought with a chuckle.

He had always had a thing for red heads.

IOI

Ana listened as Iron Bull told her everything that he thought she needed to hear. As far as first impressions went, the Qunari had gone above and beyond making one. Horns as long as her arm, his bare chest scarred from many battles, the loss of one his eyes did nothing to impeded his combat skills, and even if you discounted all those facts. His size alone was intimidating, Ana was not very tall to begin with, but…compared to Iron Bull…

Well…he was just…BIG…

Huge.

She resisted the urge to laugh. She could almost hear Sera making some lude sexual comment about that, Ana blushed slightly at the very thought.

Focus, her conscience chided, you're here for business, bloody well act like it.

She tried to make her face unreadable.

She could not deny that the Inquisition could use men of Bull's caliber. His soldiers were skilled; if they were going to build an army they needed such soldiers in their ranks.

She had come here expecting to negotiate terms for the Chargers to join them, but the Qunari offered her something more, he often himself, he wished to serve as her front line bodyguard. A position that she could see no problem with, one look at this man and most enemies would think twice about attacking her.

She was just about to say yes to his offer when he told her something else, something surprising, and more than unexpected.

In fact, it was more than unexpected, it was shocking.

She fought the impulse to let her jaw drop.

_One last thing I need to tell you_, he had said, _might piss you off._

_No kidding._

Iron Bull had not minced words. He openly admitted that was a spy for the Qunari, a member of their Ben-Hassrath, his mission: infiltrate the Inquisition and gather intelligence for his masters back in Par Vollen.

Ana pursed her lips.

Iron Bull admitted that the Qunari were concerned about the breach, so concerned that they were even considering invading the south. The chantry was rudderless, magic running amok. Bull admitted that if did nothing he had no doubt that his leaders would choose a military option to resolve this matter.

The very thought was enough to send a chill down her spine.

Things were already chaotic with the mages, if the Qunari got involved as well…

Any attempt to restore order would likely fail.

Bull swore to her that he had no desire to see such an invasion. He offered to share everything that his Qunari masters sent him, in exchange; the Inquisition would give him what he needed to keep his leaders happy. The Qunari would see that the south was doing all it could to contain this matter, and that there was no need to go beyond simply watching.

She could not deny it, it made sense.

Ana had no desire to see the south overrun by the forces of the Qun. If they moved south, they would no doubt strike at the Free Marches first. Ostwick had endured an attack by the Qunari during the last war.

She had no desire to see her home endure such a thing again. Kirkwall still bore the scars of the Qunari attack. She would not unleash another on Thedas if she could help it.

Perhaps it was selfish reasoning, but she did not care. She loved her family, even if they were not happy with her right now. Cassandra and the rest of the war council would likely not be pleased, but they were not here…

She was.

If Iron Bull was lying, they would likely all pay the price, but what choice did she have?

None.

Say no, risk an invasion, trust Bull, gain a bodyguard, and hopefully not a Qunari battle ax in the back.

No, she would simply have to do what Cassandra said, even though she found it more than difficult.

She had to have faith

She had to hope.

IOI

She smiled at the Qunari; it did not touch her eyes, Bull either did not notice or was too respectful not to say anything.

"Iron Bull," she said, "Welcome aboard."

"Excellent," the large man boomed.

He rose and turned to his soldiers.

"CHARGERS! PREPARE TO MOVE OUT, WE JUST GOT HIRED!"

Varric came up beside her, she expected what he had to say, he had fought the Qunari once after all.

He looked worried.

"Hope you know what you are doing Kiddo," he murmured.

Ana sighed.

So did she.


	13. Too Big

**Chapter 13: Too Big**

"Redcliffe, eh?"

Ana paused, nodding her head. She glanced over at the map next to her, trying very hard not to spill any food or drink upon.

Not an easy challenge during a working dinner, she thought, but it was not like she had much choice.

She had caused enough of a fuss today.

IOI

They had returned from the Stormcoast, they had been successful if not completely victorious. The Bull's Chargers now marched beside them. The wardens had moved on, and they had found no clues to their whereabouts, but at least they now knew they were looking for someone. Blackwall said he did not know who, but from the few warden missives they had found it was clear this person was important.

As for the locals, they had managed to solve that problem to. The patrol sent to parlay with the mercenaries in forest had been killed to the last, but they had managed to draw out just who it was the Inquisition had been dealing with. They called themselves the Blades of Hessarian, and apparently, their beliefs allowed a person to challenge their leader for control of the group.

Ana had taken up that challenge, using a medallion they had found on a fallen Blade, she had gone to their camp and challenged their leader to single combat.

Solas, Varric, and Blackwall had been concerned, but she had not backed down. Iron Bull seemed to approve of her choice. The man was strong and skilled, but he was also slow and arrogant. Even in full armor, Ana could be very quick when she wanted to be. Soon the leader lay dead at her feet, one by one his lieutenant, his former lieutenants, bent knee before her, she had managed to bring the Blades of Hessarian into the Inquisition and it had only cost them a handful of lives.

Cassandra would have called that a victory, Ana tried to take solace in that.

Afterwards they returned to Haven, she had hoped for a small amount of rest once they had returned from the Stormcoast, alas, she had not found what she was looking for.

They had no more passed through the town gates, when they saw a riot about to take place. Mages, survivors from the apostate group that once infested Witchwood, were almost about to come to blows with several of the Templars that. They were both snarling about his slight or that. Once again Cullen jumped in front of them, once again putting a halt to that anger and hostility before it could explode.

"We are **all **soldiers of the Inquisition," he reminded them, "We have all pledged ourselves to order, to sealing the breach. There will be **no **more fighting here!"

She could not help but smile. Cullen…he…he was so brave, so passionate. Was there any doubt why the soldiers obeyed him?

She did not think so.

The Templars listened to his words and withdrew. The mages returned to their duties, both sides looked a bit like sulky children but at least they obeyed

Ana spotted Chancellor Roderick skulking nearby. His red and white chantry robes with the gold piping were impossible to miss. From the look on the man's face, he seemed disappointed.

Perhaps he wished the mages and Templars here to fight? He made no excuses for his feelings regarding this Inquisition. The Chancellor could have returned to Val Royeaux at any time instead yet still he remained here. He did not explain his reasons for staying to anyone, when pressed on the matter, all he would say is he was doing the Maker's will.

Finally Ana could not take it anymore. The man had been screaming to have her taken back to Val Royeaux for weeks. She wanted to clear the air with him. Cullen had told her the man was toothless, and they should do nothing to turn him into a martyr, but…

Cassandra claimed he was a good man, just scared. She wanted to reach out to that.

She had caught up to him before he could disappear back into his cabin. Once again he looked at her like she was some vile thing, he no doubt still blamed her for the Divine, probably still believed that she should be executed for that crime, even though she had done so much to prove her innocence.

He glared imperiously at her as she tried to explain her desire to help, though he did choose to answer her.

"Do you believe in Andraste, Herald?" he asked her.

"Of course," she had replied.

"And yet you still profane her name and memory with your outlandish claims!"

Ana winced.

"I never claimed to be chosen."

"Yet, many of the faithful still believe **that!** Have you not heard the talk, people wondering if you will be added to the chant in the years to come? Many would claim that you are Andraste's equal!"

"I **never** said that!"

"Yet you have **never **denied it either."

Ana's jaw snapped shut. What the chancellor was saying was true. She had done nothing to discourage the stories that were spreading through the ranks of the soldiers, and no doubt Leliana and Ambassador Josephine were more than happy to see them continue…

They needed her to be a symbol, to show that their cause was righteous. The Chancellor was not wrong when he said that they were trying to elevate her.

She did not like it, but what could she do?

Roderick must have seen he had struck a blow, but strangely he did not seem pleased by it.

He actually looked a little sympathetic.

"The chantry needs time to heal child. You say you are innocent. You claim to be Andrastian, surely you can see what you are doing here is wrong."

She sighed.

"Time is not a luxury we have," she said, "I can't undo what was done. I can only try to help."

"So you will continue to walk the path of heresy?" he spat.

Ana did not meet his gaze.

"I have no choice."

The man stalked off in a huff again.

So much for reaching out, she thought.

She had tried to get her mind off the whole conversation; she had sought out Iron Bull, to see how he and his men were settling in.

The Qunari seemed pleased with what he was seeing in Haven. More and more she was realizing the wisdom of bringing him into this, Qunari spy or not.

He had a good grasp of tactics, he recognized Cullen as a Templar almost immediately, and saw his skill in training the troops.

Ana glanced towards the commander, a silly smile on her face, a happy sigh on her lips, Iron Bull did see the value, but he also saw room for improvement.

"The problem is not with the Inquisition's front line soldiers," the large man said, "It is at the top."

She gave him a questioning look.

"You have no leader, no Inquisitor," he said, "A strong hand will be needed in the days to come."

Ana pursed her lips.

She had been spending her off hours in Haven speaking with Revered Mother Gisele, the woman knew a great deal about chantry history, particularly the original Inquisition.

Her tales about the Inquisitors of old disturbed Ana.

They had been fanatics, ruthless, the fact that they had fallen under Andraste's sway was likely the only good thing that could be said about them. They attacked their enemies ruthlessly, spreading the chant of light through force of arms. They declared themselves the arbiters of high justice, and held the power of life and death in their hands, whether the people wanted them to or not.

She was not sure if the Inquisition should bring back the title of Inquisitor. If there had to be one, she would have suggested Leliana or Cassandra. Their faith was without question, and she trusted both to do the right thing. Leliana could be a bit ruthless at times, and Cassandra might have been a little stubborn but she trusted them both.

Still…

She feared what having absolute power over the Inquisition would do to them, what it would do to anyone.

Power corrupts. She had no desire to see her friends lost to that, she had no desire to see anyone lost to that. If a single leader ruled the Inquisition, that person could become very dangerous both to the movement and to the people serving in it.

She excused herself, both Roderick and Bull's words haunted her, they had become a whirlwind in her head. She retreated to her cabin. She did not want to think about heresy or Inquisitors right now. The council needed to come up with a course of actions to approach either the mages or the Templars.

She wanted to contribute to that.

As was her way she took her meals in private, she had tried eating in Flissa's Tavern but she distracted the men there, all those whispered. When she did dine with company, she usually chose Ambassador Montilyet, their noble backgrounds had led to a friendship of sorts between them, but Josephine was not here right now. She was off furthering the Inquisition's interests somewhere right now.

That was unfortunate; she could have used Josie's advice right now.

She had almost accepted that she would dine in silence when Varric paid her a visit. She smiled and invited him inside. Despite what Cassandra said, she had come to not only trust Varric but like him a great deal. Both had been through a lot since the Inquisition had started, both had begun their lives here as prisoners.

Now they…well she was not sure exactly what they were.

IOI

"The mages have invited us Varric," she shrugged, "It would be rude to refuse."

The dwarf chuckled.

"You think this invitation is on the up and up?"

Ana pursed her lips.

"It could be, but we need the allegiance of at least one of the factions. The mages are powerful, and the fact that they reached out to us first should not be ignored."

She shook her head.

"Plus, after seeing what the Lord Seeker did to Mother Hevara. The look in his eyes, I…I'm not sure that is the kind of man I want to reach out to. What it would mean for the Inquisition."

Varric grinned.

And so the mighty Herald reached out to the mages," he said in an official voice, "Drawn by her conscience and the will of the Maker. Her resolve clear, her courage certain, she…"

Ana glared at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Just sounding out prose for what this moment will look like after I get it down on parchment," he replied, "People are going to want to know what was going through your mind at this moment. They…"

Ana whimpered.

"Maker's breath, Varric, not you too!"

"Not me what?"

The herald shook her head.

"It is bad enough that I have to be the Herald all the time outside of these walls, let's not trap me into that role here please."

The dwarf's brow furrowed.

"You feel trapped?"

"I…yes…no…I…I don't know…I…oh ANDRASTE'S ASS!"

She almost flung her water goblet against the wall. She let her head thump loudly down on the table.

She sighed heavily.

"Maker," she mumbled against the wood, "What am I going to do?"

She heard Varric lean back.

"Want to talk about it," he offered.

She pulled back rubbing the red mark on her cheek from the table's edge. She gave the dwarf a pained look.

"What do you see when you look at me Varric?"

He tapped his chin lightly.

"What do you think I should see?" he asked.

"Ana Trevelyan," she responded, "But that is the problem. I…I don't know if that is who I am any more. Maker…it feels like my whole world is coming apart!"

He gave her a sympathetic look.

"If you are not you then who are you?"

She pursed her lips.

"I know who I was. I was the third daughter of a noble house. Growing up I was taught one very singular lesson, it defined everything I was."

She gave him a wan smile.

"You are third in line Ana," she began, "Do not bother your sister Anastasia; she needs to prepare for her role. Do not bother your brother Ana, he needs to study. To the eldest goes the spoils Ana, never expect any more than what you can get for yourself."

She sighed.

"When I came of age last year, mother told me that I had two choices, I could find a lord husband and further my family's agenda that way, or if I was feeling ambitious, I could enter the chantry. Take my vows like so many other good Trevelyan girls before me, that with my connections, I might even become Grand Cleric of Ostwick one day, but even that would be because of who my mother was, the power that my family wields."

She shook her head.

"Since the Conclave…all that has changed. People look at me with awe, Varric. They look at me like I'm the most important person in Thedas. It is not only disturbing it is terrifying!"

She pushed away from the table and began to pace. He watched her but said nothing.

"This…this is not how it was supposed to be! I'm nothing special! I'm just me! The third daughter of Lady Aliza, I was supposed to drift into obscurity. I…I was never meant to be the center of anything…I…I don't know how! When everyone finally realizes this…it…it is going to let everyone down, and more importantly they will be furious with me! Enraged!

She hugged herself.

"The Tevinter's burned Andraste for what she did! I don't want to be her! I don't want to be a sacrifice on the altar of the Inquisition. I just want to be me, again. I want to go home when all this is over; I want to drift back into obscurity, but…but…

She laughed fatalistically.

"There is no going back is there? Even if I returned home, what I did, what happened here will follow me for the rest of my days. I'll never be just Ana again, the rebellious daughter who took up the sword and shield because it annoyed her Mother. I'll always be the heretic the girl that survived the Conclave…the…the… herald of…"

She flopped down hard on her bed with a loud thump. She felt her eyes stinging again. She let out a shuddering breath.

Everyone was counting on her.

That terrified her.

She felt the bed shift as Varric sat down next to her; she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, "You…you did not need to see me like this. I should not have whined to you like a spoiled child."

The dwarf chuckled.

"You would be surprised Kiddo," he said, "You're not the first person who has been thrust into great things and said she did not want it. You think Hawke wanted to be Champion? I assure you, he didn't. All he wanted was for his family to be safe, what came later…he could have done without that."

She sat up; her blue eyes alight with curiosity.

"You don't talk about Hawke much."

"Painful subject," the dwarf said, "What is happening in the world now, this shit with the Templars and the mages…I wonder if we could have done something. If we could have stopped this cart before it fell off the road."

The dwarf shook his head, he looked skyward.

"Are you happy Blondie?!" he snarled, "Templars and mages everywhere are killing each other! You got the war you wanted! Are you happy now?!"

Ana sat up, she sniffled and wiped at her eyes.

She knew who Varric was referring to; she had read the Tale of the Champion."

Anders, the rebel mage who had destroyed the chantry in Kirkwall, that act started the ball rolling; the war came as a result of his actions.

Varric did not speak of him much, for obvious reasons.

"What happened wasn't your fault or Hawkes'"

"The chantry disagreed," he snorted, "I would not be here if they didn't."

She sat up taking a seat next to him. She almost laughed.

They were truly an odd pair, the Herald and the storyteller. Neither would have chosen this path if they had had a choice to begin with. Varric should have been back in Kirkwall pulling strings with merchants and writing books.

Ana should have been back in Ostwick. Trying to figure out what she was going to do with her life.

They should have been anywhere…anywhere but here, but here is where they were.

Here is where they were needed.

It was a scary thought.

She sighed heavily.

"I want you with us when we leave for Redcliffe. I'll need your advice there.

The dwarf nodded.

"Sure Kiddo, whatever you say."

She smiled wanly again.

"What are we going to do Varric? How do we deal with this, it is too big."

He shook his head.

"Damned if I know, Kiddo," he said, he placed her small hand in his.

They sat there for a moment, neither sure what they were going to do next, but for the moment taking comfort in each other.

…Just grateful to be with a friend.

They returned to their meal, and said nothing more of the future or choices, or destiny. Come the morning they would do what they had done since this madness had begun.

They would survive.

They would endure.


	14. Redcliffe

**Chapter 14: Redcliffe**

"**MOVE**!" the Herald of Andraste shouted.

Ana rushed headlong into the fray, the guards holding the gates of Redcliffe heeded her orders and scattered, not that she blamed them, a few months ago, she would have run to…

Demons tended to scare normal people.

It seemed that they had arrived just in time; the mark had begun to spark and sputter the closer they drew to the village of Redcliffe, after months of fighting in the Inquisition she came to know what that meant…

They had visitors, and they were not welcome.

A fade rift had opened nearby no doubt, already spilling the foulest denizens of the fade across the area. She reached out using the mark to guide them, it would not do to leave a rift open so close to the village of Redcliffe, not if she wanted the mages support.

What she had not expected was to find the rift so close to the gates, almost on top of them truth be told.

Oh well, she thought, if the mages wanted to know who it was they were dealing with, closing a fade rift was as good an example as any.

Provided they weren't overwhelmed in the meantime.

Bolstered by Lady Vivienne's magic she rushed the demons milling around the opening, mostly shades and one or two wraiths. There was also one of those tree-like things, the creatures that researcher Minaeve had come to call terrors.

Ana had developed a deep dislike for this type of demon, they had the ability to disappear and reappear under one's feet. She had broken an ankle a few months back after being thrown by one of the foul beasts. Solas had healed her but…

The memory still irked her.

Cassandra was at her side, as always. Varric kept back, firing Bianca into the thickest mass of demons. These were tactics that their party had mastered over the last few months, Varric scattered them allowing the warriors to engage. Vivienne filled in well for Solas here, adding her powers to theirs. The First Enchanter had not lied about her skills as a mage. She had not earned Ana's trust as Solas had, but she was still grateful for the woman's presence. She…

Ana's eyes widened.

_What in Andraste's name…?_

Varric had fired at a shade she was advancing towards, normally that meant the demon was injured when she engaged it, but not this time.

The bolt never found its mark, not because Varric missed, but because the bolt seemed to…slowdown in mid-air, it crept though the air like a snail. The demon only had to turn lazily to the right, and let the bolt slowly float by. Ana changed tactics; she sidestepped and struck the creature hard with her buckler, knocking it towards where the bolt had gone…

The demon, like the arrow, slowed, it tried to lunge forward, but it was as if it was barely moving now…

Ana stabbed out with her sword, it pierced the creature's eye, slaying it instantly. The demon crumbled to ash before her. Its foul energies funneled back into the rift that it had emerged from.

The herald spun, all around her the battle raged. The Inquisition soldiers that they had brought with them were mostly raw recruits. A peace mission to Redcliffe had seemed like a good way for the young recruits to get some seasoning.

Now they found themselves in a pitched battle with demons, not the training Ana would have preferred to be sure.

She spotted Cassandra. The Seeker was locked in combat with a Shade, but it was not going well. Both warrior and demon were slowed down by the fade rift, they looked like they were fighting underwater, they…

The ground beneath Cassandra began to flicker, heralding the arrival of a terror.

Ana did not hesitate. She ran forward, trying to reach her friend.

The world around the herald seemed to slow down again.

No, she realized, the world had not slowed down…

_She __**had**__ sped up!_

The demon emerged from the glowing wound in the ground. Cassandra tried to back pedal but she might as well been standing still.

The terror reached for her, its long thorny arm going for the Seeker's throat.

All this happened with agonizing slowness, but for Ana that was an advantage, it gave her time.

Time she used wisely.

She brought her blade down hard on the terror, sharpened silverite, split the creature's head in two.

It likely had not even realized that Ana was there, so slowed down were its movements by magic roiling around them.

The creature faded back into the rift. Cassandra blinked, still unsure how Ana had gotten to her so quickly.

Time seemed to return to normal, at least for a moment.

"KIDDO, THE RIFT!"

Varric's words caused the herald to take notice, the crystalline structure of the demonic portal changed; it seemed less solid, more like a fluid floating the cold Fereldan air.

It was a sight that she welcomed, the rift had been weakened, now was the time to deal with it.

She thrust her hand out towards its, magic flared into the unstable rift, connecting it to Ana.

The herald grunted, and pulled.

She had tried to explain what this felt like to both Vivienne and Solas, her feeling that the rifts were like a tapestry, one that only had to be pulled just right to unravel.

Vivienne had chuckled and called her explanation quaint. Solas had nodded, ever the scholar trying to figure out the truth in her words.

As for Ana herself, all she needed to know was that it worked, the mark sealed rifts when she pulled on them.

She was pulling hard now.

She would seal this one.

Again time seemed to flip, the magic flowing from her into the rift seemed to slow, the progress faltered, the magic not flowing as quickly as it needed to.

Ana gritted her teeth. She struggled, seeking to force more power into the mark. She yanked harder with her mind and her will, refusing to be denied.

Come on, you bastard, she thought angrily.

Close damn you!

Close. Close. Close.

Damn you, CLOSE!

Time returned to normal.

_**POP!**_

The rift closed energetically, the extra power she had used caused the air pulsing out of it to hit far harder than it would have normally.

The Herald was flung backward; she hit the ground hard, striking the back of her head.

Stars exploded before her eyes.

The world faded to black.

Ana almost sighed.

_Not this again._

IOI

"Ana?"

She groaned.

"Ana?"

A wave of dizziness struck her, threatening to bring her last meal back up. She took a deep breath and tried to keep it down.

"Kiddo, you all right, come on speak to us here."

The herald's eyes fluttered open, her ears were still ringing and the bright light hurt her eyes.

She raised her hand.

She thought she heard Cassandra sigh with relief; she would have to remember to tease her about that later.

"Are you all right, my dear, if you are, say something?"

Ana glanced up, seeing the fine features of Vivienne standing above her.

She winced, her hand going to the back of her head.

"Ow," she groaned.

She thought she heard Varric chuckle.

She looked around her, her brow furrowing.

"Why are there six of you?" she asked.

"It is just Varric, Cassandra and I, my dear," the First Enchanter replied.

Ana chuckled.

"Well, that is good, that means I'm just seeing double."

She forced herself to sit up, fighting down a fresh wave of nausea. Vivienne was there, applying healing magic to the bump on the back of her head.

Slowly the cobwebs faded

She took a great lungful of air.

There, that was better.

She looked around at her fellows; they all looked a little worried. The soldiers that had accompanied them stared at her with undisguised awe.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

_Yes, she had closed the rift, __**yay her**__, she had done it before._

What had been happening around it however that was new.

There would be time for hero-worship later, now she needed answers, magical answered.

She turned to the most logical source.

"Lady Vivienne," she said, "any ideas what that rift was doing to us?"

The dark skinned mage sniffed.

"It was most astonishing," she replied, "I may be wrong, but I believe that the magic emerging from that rift was altering the flow of time itself. Slowing some things down, speeding other things up, as I said, astonishing, and most curious."

Cassandra frowned.

"They have never done **that **before," the Seeker growled.

Vivienne gave her her most acidic smile.

"Perhaps the rules have changed Seeker, perhaps the rifts are evolving."

Ana shook her head.

Maker, she hoped not.

"Maybe the Grand Enchanter can tell us something," she suggested, "The mages have to be aware of the rifts, maybe some of them are even studying them."

Vivienne sniffed at that idea.

"I suspect herald that Fiona had other things on her mind, but…even in her dotage she does retain some knowledge, we should speak to her at least, it may be amusing if nothing else."

Varric helped Ana to her feet.

It was at that time that the guards from Redcliffe came back. They stared at the Inquisition soldiers with disbelief, and great respect.

Ana turned to the lead gate guard, a terse looking woman, who had denied her access to Redcliffe a month and a half ago.

She gave the woman her most withering stare; it was not as good as mother's but few could outglare Lady Aliza, even her own daughter.

"We serve the Inquisition," she said coldly, "We have business with the mage rebellion. You will open the door now…right now."

She kicked herself mentally.

I probably could have left off the right now.

Still her demand was not denied, it was instantly obeyed, and the portcullis blocking the entrance to Redcliffe village was raised.

Ana sighed with relief.

At least something was going right today.

The Inquisition entered the village of Redcliffe. Ana paused for a moment, drinking in the history of this place, the tales she had been told as a child coming to life before her eyes.

There was likely not a child born in the last twenty years that had not heard the name Redcliffe, it had been a major source of action during the fifth blight. Undead, demons, even darkspawn had attacked this place, and still it remained, unbroken, and unspoiled.

The sight gave her some hope. Redcliffe had been a sight of great victory for the heroes of the Blight.

Hopefully, it would continue to remain so for the Inquisition.

Ana spotted many mages walking the rough paths. She noticed few villagers though, and saw no sign of the Arl's men. She had assumed that Arl Teagan would have at least sent an honor guard to escort them to the Grand Enchanter, so that they could begin negotiations.

What they got was a lone mage.

"Agents of the Inquisition…welcome!"

Ana gave the man her most endearing smile.

"Greeting good ser, we thank you for allowing us into your fine village, but I must insist meeting with your leaders immediately. We come before you today with the most dire of requests."

The mage smiled at her.

"I'm certain you do Milady, alas I do not have the authority to negotiate on behalf of my brethren. Magister Alexius is currently occupied, and he sends his apologies, though if you wish to speak with the former Grand Enchanter, she is currently awaiting your arrival in the inn."

Ana's brow furrowed what the man said made little sense.

_Magister Alexius?_

_A Magister rules here?_

_Fiona is now the former Grand Enchanter?_

None of what the man said made any damn sense!

What in the name of Andraste's knickers was a Magister doing here?!

Cassandra glared at the retreating mage's back.

"Tevinters," she growled, "Here."

If looks could destroy, Cassandra's might have turned all of Redcliffe to ash.

Varric shuffled uncomfortably. He had faced a Tevinter Magister before, or at least his books said that he had.

If a magister was here, he knew better than anyone what they now faced.

Vivienne came up beside her, for the first time since they had met; Ana saw legitimate concern in the dark skinned woman's eyes.

"Oh Fiona," she murmured, "What have you done now?"

Ana did not reply, but she agreed with the sentiment.

What had Fiona done?

They were about to find out.

**A/N: I would like to thank all the people who have decided to follow Ana's journey. Your response is appreciated. I will try to keep my Herald both amusing and exciting. Next time of course a meeting with mages and Magisters, as well as a young man who might bring some changes to Ana's life. See you all next time, and if I don't post again before the holiday…**

_**Merry Christmas **_**and **_**Happy Holidays**_** everybody!**

**DG**


	15. Servants

**A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! It has been a bit of a dark holiday for me, I won't go into all the details, but…it has been painful. Fortunately, when I feel pain, I turn it into creation, I hope you like it. For those of you who don't know it, the bit of Fiona's history here was revealed in David Gaider's **_**Dragon Age: The Calling**_** novel. It is a good book if you have never read it. Anyway enjoy the next chapter of Ana's adventure.**

**Chapter 15: Servants**

"Grand Enchanter!"

Fiona turned with a heavy sigh. She did not even need to look to know who was calling her name.

She managed a weak smile.

"Hello Shamus, is there something you require?"

The dark skinned young man stopped before her table in _the Gull and Lantern_, his dark eyes flaring in the dim light, the young man had been one of her staunchest allies once, he had stood proudly before back in Andoral's Reach, they had escaped the white spire together. He had told her once that he would fight against the Templars with or without the consent of the rest of the circle.

She…she had admired his fire; it was a shame now that she had to deny it.

"Grand Enchanter," he snarled, "I want to know what is going on with Bernadette. The Magister's men will tell me nothing!"

Fiona sighed, an unhappy frown on her face.

"Bernadette is fine Shamus," she said, Magister Alexius assured me that she was fine. She is almost eight months pregnant, she needs to be with the healers right now. You know that."

The man grimaced.

"That let the healers come here," he growled, "There was no reason to take my wife to the castle!"

"The Magister wanted to make sure she got the best care imaginable."

Shamus' eyes narrowed.

"Do you truly believe that Fiona?"

"The Tevinters are our allies," she reminded him, "We have to respect them."

He pulled the dark haired elf into the corner where they could speak privately, Fiona did not blame him, not everyone was unhappy with the terms of their alliance with the Tevinter Imperium…

Some even welcomed the chance to join their northern brethren, and more than a few would likely even inform on someone they thought to be endangering that alliance.

Some of the anger in Shamus' eyes faded, but he appeared defiant, but also frightened.

She did not blame him.

"Grand Enchanter…Fiona…please," the young man begged, "Bernie is all I have left, she…we…our child…I fear what will happen to them in Tevinter custody. The Tevinters…they…they practice blood sacrifice, the blood of a newborn in highly prized in the Imperium; it works well for the most powerful of rituals. If the Magister's men decide to take our baby…Bernie won't let them…she…she…"

The man almost whimpered.

"I already lost one love, Grand Enchanter. I can't lose another!"

Fiona sighed.

Shamus had been a paramour of Enchanter Claudia of Montsimmard, as long as she had known the two of them they had been inseparable, bound not only in magic, but seemingly in soul as well. Claudia had not escaped when Lord Seeker Lambert had arrested them all almost two years ago in the White Spire. After she had died, Shamus turned cold; he struck viciously at their enemies. The only peace he had found in those months was from killing Templars. When he took up with Bernadette, she had been happy; slowly his mind and heart had begun to heal…but now…now…

"Magister Alexius will not harm the child," she promised, "I will speak to him myself; you have my word on that."

"And what if he denies you, what if he decides that he knows what is best for Bernie…and the baby? What will you do then, Grand Enchanter?"

The elf winced.

_If Alexius said no…_

…_What could she do?_

They needed this alliance. The Templars were **still** out there, for the moment they had not attacked Redcliffe openly, perhaps they feared raising the ire of the Imperium itself, or perhaps Lord Seeker Lucius still needed time to consolidate his own power?

She shook her head.

Whatever happened, she knew that she could not jeopardize the alliance, there were too many Tevinter's here now. Too many of her own people were either too scared or ensnared by Alexius' promises.

Plus there were the non-combatants to consider, they had apprentices with them, children, and those too old or injured to fight. If she turned against the Magister now…

The remaining mages could not stand alone against the Templars. If they made enemies of Alexius and his allies now…it was likely none would escape Redcliffe alive.

"I will speak to the Magister again," she promised, "He must see reason. He has to."

Shamus snorted.

"So we have traded one group of masters for another," he spat, "I never figured you for the good little slave Fiona."

The Grand Enchanter's elven ears lowered in fury.

_Shamus…how could he say such a thing!_

_How __**dare**__ he!_

Fiona had been sold into slavery when she was only seven years old, she had been the Count's pet…he had enjoyed beating her, as she grew older, he had expected other things. When she was fourteen she had murdered him, the abusive bastard. His widow likely could have punished her, but instead let the Templars take her to the circle. There she had languished, the lone elf surrounded by human mages, but that was before the Grey Wardens…before Genevieve…

…Before Duncan…

…Before…

Before…

Maric.

She winced at those memories, what would Maric say if he could see her now? What would Duncan? She was all alone now, the last survivor of those bleak days lost in the Deep Roads almost thirty years ago.

She narrowed her eyes, and stood a little straighter.

"We are not slaves!" she reminded her rebellious charge, but we do need the Tevinters, at least for now, we need time to recover, to rebuild, the Conclave cost us much. We…"

"Grand Enchanter?"

She turned an angry look on her face. The messenger winced under her gaze, despite her small stature; the Grand Enchanter still knew how to stand tall.

Alexius had not broken her spirit…

At least…not yet.

"Yes," she growled.

"My apologies," the boy stammered, not a Tevinter mage, but one of their servants, "The agents of the Inquisition are here. They requested an audience with Magister Alexius, but he is not yet available."

The man wilted slightly under her eyes.

"The Magister asks that you see to them until he can arrive."

Fiona snorted.

The Inquisition, here?

She found herself wondering what Alexius had been thinking, the Inquisition would likely not agree with the presence of the Tevinters here.

Why had he let them in in the first place?

What game was he playing at?

IOI

Ana strode carefully into the Gull and Lantern; she glanced around at the crowded tavern. There were few villagers here, most were mages from one circle or another, some looked at her with curiosity, others with fear, or outright hostility.

The herald's brow furrowed.

The scout that they had met near the gate had informed her that the Inquisition had not been expected. That as far as the mage rebellion knew; they had not even been invited.

That was kind of hard to believe, she thought, being that the Grand Enchanter herself had invited her here.

She scanned the tavern, spotting Fiona at a table near the back, the dark skinned mage she had been speaking to retreated as they made their way forward. The Grand Enchanter ran her fingers through her graying dark hair.

Ana put on her most winning smile, hoping it would counter the scowl on Cassandra's face, and the smug look of superiority on Vivienne's. Varric's expression remained bland; clearly the dwarf was still evaluating the strange circumstances they were now facing.

The Herald said nothing, she still hoped that the elf could explain this to her.

"Agents of the Inquisition," the Grand Enchanter began, "I bid you welcome to Redcliffe, though I must ask, what it is that has brought you here?"

"Your Invitation of course," Ana responded, she was starting to get confused here.

"My invitation?" the elf said with a twitch of her ears.

"Indeed," Cassandra said coldly, "The one you made to us on the streets of Val Royeaux; surely you remember meeting us in the capital?"

Fiona tilted her head.

"Val Royeaux? I…I have not been back to the capital since before our struggle began, surely you must be mistaken."

Vivienne chuckled.

"Oh poor Fiona," she clucked, "Not only do you look terrible my dear, It seems that you are now losing your memory in your dotage, how unfortunate."

She smirked at her former superior.

"Are you getting enough sleep my dear?"

The elf glared at her.

"First Enchanter Vivienne," she said coldly, "What are you doing here?"

The dark skinned mage chuckled.

"Unlike your sycophants, some of us still remember our place in this world. Magic is to serve, never to rule."

She gave Fiona a cruel smirk.

"The loyalists and most of the lucrosians now serve the Lady Anastasia and her Inquisition. We see how this world will be restored, and it will not be through your failing leadership."

Ana almost gasped...

…_**Her**_ Inquisition?

Had the court mage lost her mind?!

She was not the leader here.

Still Cassandra and Varric said nothing, Ana reminded herself to speak with First Enchanter Vivienne later. She was no leader. She was simply another agent…

…Despite her standing on the war council, and the mark on her hand.

Still Vivienne pushed on, battering the Grand Enchanter, _the former_ Grand Enchanter.

"If you are wise my dear, you will rejoin us, and aid us in putting Thedas back the way it should be."

Fiona sighed and bowed her head.

"I'm…I'm afraid I'm no longer in a position to negotiate such things. We…the rebel mages of Thedas have formed an Alliance with the Tevinter Imperium, as an indentured…servant of the Imperium, I hold no standing to speak for my people any longer."

Cassandra glared at her.

"Grand Enchanter, do you truly wish to turn all of Thedas against the mages?!"

"Poor Fiona," Vivienne sneered, "Your dementia is showing, my dear."

Varric shook his head.

"Of all the stupid things you could have done, elf, this takes the cake."

Ana raised her hand; her allies insulting the Grand Enchanter would not help them here.

IOI

Again Fiona felt her temper starting to rise.

"We were losing the war," she spat, "We had only just retreated from the Conclave when the Templars attacked our position here, we likely would have been overwhelmed if not for Magister Alexius and his forces."

The red haired girl in the armor, the one that Vivienne referred to as their leader shook her head.

"When did you have time to negotiate this alliance?"

"Right after the Conclave," Fiona replied, "We arrived to find Magister Alexius ready to aid us against the Templars, had we refused…"

Again the girl raised her hand, her blue eyes looked pained.

"I see," she said, "Grand Enchanter, I am most confused, you met with us in Val Royeaux, you offered us an invitation to come here, and before you ask, yes, I'm certain it was you. Why would you do that if you had already made this deal with Tevinter?"

Fiona blinked.

"I…I'm not sure, as I have said, I have not been in the capital since the vote in the White Spire, but…still…still…"

The elf shook her head.

"I feel strange...I…"

It was at that moment that the door to the Gull and Lantern was flung open.

Magister Alexius and his party stepped inside.

Fiona winced.

When he had arrived, she had looked on the Tevinter mage as Maker sent, but the longer the Tevinters remained…

She knew what many of the mages here said about this alliance, and she agreed with them to a degree, but alas, she saw no other option.

The mages had needed allies.

Ten years of indentured servitude was a harsh price, but what choice had they?

Again she saw Maric and Duncan's faces swim up into her thoughts, them and one other, the baby she had left in Denerim all those years ago.

What would he say about her choice here?

She hated imagine.

IOI

Ana turned to face the new arrivals, a beardless mage in full red Tevinter garb, he was followed by a young man in gold with similar features and two burly bodyguards.

Fiona rose and bowed respectfully.

"Agents of the Inquisition," she said, "Allow me to introduce Magister Gereon Alexius."

The Tevinter gave them a warm smile.

"It is a pleasure to meet you at last, agents of the Inquisition."

He turned to Ana, alone, his smile turned downright predatory.

"And you, you are her are you not, the survivor of the Conclave, the one who stepped out of the fade."

He almost licked his lips.

"Interesting."

Ana shifted slightly, the man's gaze made her skin crawl. His stare was penetrating, like he might be able to see through her armor.

That was enough to make her uncomfortable, but something in his manner…it was different.

His smile was hungry, but not entirely lecherous; he looked at her more like a wolf might look at a hare.

"I am she, Anastasia Aliza Trevelyan of Ostwick, Agent of the Inquisition, at your service" she responded with a slight curtsey, "It is a pleasure to meet you Magister Alexius. The Grand Enchanter has informed me that you now lead the mages here?"

He gave her a slight nod.

"Indeed, that is correct," he replied, "Fiona and her charges are **not** citizens of the Imperium however. They must prove themselves worthy of joining us. A term of ten years as Indentured servants has been levied on the mages here, once that has been completed they will take their place as full citizens."

Ana tried to sound nonchalant as she responded, it was not an easy thing; the man…was quite charismatic.

"A lot can happen in ten years Milord; this can't be a good deal for your Archon, or the Imperium as a whole."

Alexius chuckled.

"It is an **expense**, I will admit, but once our southern brothers and sisters have been properly trained, we hope to make that expense back, especially when the join our legions."

Fiona gasped.

Ana glanced her way.

"But…Magister…you…you promised me that not all my people would be military! We…we have children here, those who are not suitable!"

He gave the former Grand Enchanter a shark-like smile.

"I'm certain everything will work out Fiona, you must trust me."

The elf winced, but said nothing else.

Ana felt a shiver run down her spine.

_This was not good; this was not good at all._

If the rebel mages became a legion for the Imperium, it would tip the balance of power here in the south. The Imperium could even use Redcliffe as a beach head to begin a new invasion of Ferelden and Orlais.

Even if the Templars did not respond to this threat, the nations of the south would not stand for this. They would fall on Redcliffe enmasse.

It would be a bloodbath for the mages here.

Again Alexius smiled her way.

"I understand Milady that you have come seeking mages to help seal the tear in the sky?"

Ana took a deep breath and tried to push on.

"That is correct, Milord. I trust you are willing to negotiate with us on this point?"

Both Cassandra and Vivienne shot her a look. She did her best to ignore it.

She still wanted to feel out what was going on here. Seeing how this Magister responded to her request would be telling, not to mention valuable.

"I will say this for you, Milady, you do not think small."

Ana laughed dismissively, her mother often did it at difficult negotiations, it was fake, but it always seemed to work.

"There is a hole in the sky. Magister, we cannot afford to think small."

Alexius laughed, as if amused by her statement.

Ana tried not to smile.

_Parry, dodge, spin,_ the lethal dance of negotiations as her mother liked to say.

Part of her wished her mother was here, she could have used her advice in dealing with this man.

He smiled at the young man in gold.

"Felix, would you be so kind as to summon a scribe?"

"Yes Father," the young man said.

The Magister smiled proudly.

"My son Felix, friends," he said, "My heir."

The young man nodded, and began to turn. Suddenly he gasped.

He staggered back.

The Magister was on his feet in seconds.

"FELIX!"

The young man staggered into Ana, she caught him, but…

Alexius was at his son's side in seconds.

"Are you all right," he gasped, "Felix…what is wrong?"

The younger man gave his father a sheepish grin.

"I…I am fine Father, it…I'm just tired…"

Some of the worry faded from the man's face, but not all.

"We must get you back to the castle," he purred, "I will summon your healers…"

He turned to the former First Enchanter.

"Fiona, attend us, please."

"Yes…Magister," she said bowing her head.

Ana shot that elf a pitying look; Fiona did not even meet her eyes.

She likely understood what Alexius intended for her people.

The herald felt sorry for her, but…

It did not change the circumstances.

The Situation was bad, no matter how you sliced it.

Alexius gave her a sheepish look.

"Forgive me Lady Trevelyan," he said, "But I fear we must continue these negotiations at a later date."

Ana curtseyed again.

"Of course milord, family must always come first."

Alexius chuckled weakly.

"Spoken like a true noble daughter," he said, "Your family must be very proud of you."

The herald winced.

If he only knew.

Alexius, Felix, and Fiona left the tavern, protected by the Magister's bodyguards. The mages and villagers returned to their drinks, the music began playing again.

Ana sighed.

She had been warned about Magisters by her tutors, if Alexius was anything like his peers…

…those concerns were likely well warranted.

Behind her Varric snorted.

"Too bad Fenris wasn't here," he murmured, "I don't think the Magister would have enjoyed that meeting."

Vivienne shook her head.

"Fiona is a fool," she sneered, "She always complained about being bound to the chantry, well…in Tevinter she will find out really what slavery is like."

Cassandra snorted.

"We should leave the mages to their fate. The Templars would be better suited as allies then these people."

Varric chuckled.

"I doubt it Seeker," he said, "Things being the way they are, I'm willing to bet that the Templars are up to their very own creepy shit."

The Seeker turned to the dwarf.

"Could anything be worse than this, Varric?"

The dwarf shrugged.

"I try not to ask those kinds of questions Seeker, the answers are never good."

Cassandra turned to Ana.

"Herald, surely you see now that coming here was a mistake?"

Ana nodded, she had only just met the Magister, but already she felt dirty. She reached for her scabbard, making sure her sword was still there.

She paused.

_**Wait?**_

Her gauntlet dipped into her belt.

_What was that?_

She reached down, finding a small folded up piece of parchment in her belt; she was not sure how it had…

She frowned.

The Magister's son, Felix…had he slipped the parchment into her belt when he fell into her?

It was possible.

Varric frowned.

"What you got there, Kiddo?"

She opened it up.

The Herald's eyes narrowed.

It was a note, a very strange note.

It read:

_Come to the chantry, you are all in grave danger._

Ana pursed her lips.

Danger? What kind of Danger?

She shook her head.

She was afraid there was only one way to find out.

The others might not like it, but what choice did they have?

She would not leave the mages in the hands of Tevinter.

For the good of everyone, she needed to save them.

Whether they liked it…or not.

**A/N: Next…Dorian. I recently played the Templar mission in DA I, I had to say I felt more sympathy for the mages. I don't wish to spoil it for anyone who not gotten that far in the game yet, so I will say nothing more. I do have a question, do you think that Ana and company should help Fiona and friends or go seeking Templar aid, I'm eager to hear your answer to that question, another chapter up soon, and again…Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!**

**DG**


	16. Legacy

**Chapter 16: Legacy**

Cassandra was scowling.

Not that that came as much of a surprise. She was not the type of person to walk around grinning like an idiot. Varric often said that it was her default expression. The disapproving stare of a seeker, as much a part of her as her black armor was,

She always took her job seriously, was it any surprise that her smiles were few and far between.

_You really should not scowl so much my love; it is such a shame to see such a beautiful face always so serious._

She flinched at the memory of those words, spoken so long ago by the man that had saved her life, the one who helped her win back her honor and saved her soul from her own anger.

Galyan…even now she could see his face, his eyes twinkling with merriment as he tried to draw even the smallest smile from her.

Cassandra shook her head.

_He had been a fool, no doubt, but…_

…_but…for a time…for too short a time…_

_He had been __**her**__ fool._

Galyan had been a true mage of the circle; he had believed that mages and mundanes could find a common ground. That that world was possible if only a code of respectful conduct could be established.

She shook her head.

He had attended the Conclave, she knew that. His name had been on the list of mages in attendance, and since she had not seen him in Haven…well…she knew what had likely happened. She had mourned his passing in the days after the explosion, but even that seemed too small for what she was feeling.

The Divine's death had been hard; she had served her faithfully, for almost six years, to lose not only her, but Galyan as well…

_It was a painful curse to bear._

They had been friends for almost twenty years. Once they had been…**more**, but that had ended not long after it had begun. Regalyan D'Marcall had been a circle mage, she…the Right Hand of the Divine, it was obvious that they had no future together. Besides, her loyalty to the chantry always came first, he had understood that. If anything, he likely understood her better than anyone else in the world, more even than Byron ever had…

…Likely even more than Antony…

The Seeker grimaced, as she always did when her thoughts turned to her brother, dead so many years now. It was sad she realized, after so many years she had a hard time remembering what he even looked like, what his voice had sounded like…

No, all she could remember about her brother now was how he had died, cut down by the blade on a blood mage's staff.

It had been a cruel death, and she had spent the better part of three decades since trying to avenge it.

When Divine Beatrix III passed she had given serious consideration to returning to the Seekers full time. She had served the Most Holy for almost fourteen years.

Those had been good years, hard years, but good.

When Justinia V came to the sunburst throne, she had come to Cassandra personally, asking her to continue on as hand. It was her sense of honor that allowed her to continue on, but…

In her weaker moments, she could not deny that she felt doubts…regrets.

Being the hand had isolated her, it was necessary for her work, but…there was so much that she could not share with those she cared about, not that she had many, but…

What bothered her most was that she feared that she would go to the flames having done nothing for the next generation. Byron had told her once that his happiest moments had come in her training, because he knew that she would be able to carry on after he was gone.

She had been more than just his squire; she had also been his legacy. Byron had taught her everything he had known about being a Seeker.

Cassandra frowned.

She feared that all that her old mentor had taught her would die with her. She thought that she might never find someone to carry Byron's teachings into the next age…

Then she met the Herald, and then…she had met Ana…

_After that, everything had changed._

She saw Ana Trevelyan as more than just a sister in arms, more even than a simple friend. She had spent the last few months sharing everything that Byron had taught her with the girl. Ana was not like her, but she was skilled, and growing even more so with each passing day. She was brave, selfless, and skilled, everything that Cassandra could have hoped for in a squire. Her sense of humor and noble upbringing sometimes got in the way, aggravating her, but the Seeker did not fault the girl for that.

_A master learns as much from his pupil as she learns from him. The journey can be difficult, but only by facing such challenges will both teacher and student grow stronger…together._

Again Byron's words guided her.

Ana was not what Cassandra had expected. She believed that the girl had been touched by Andraste; she had seen too much to deny that. All who came into the Herald's circle came to trust her, and it was not just her title that bound them together, it was something more.

The girl had a quiet strength, she could be naïve had times, but that only added to her mystique. She saw value in even the most lost of people. The Blades of Hessarian, the rebel mages and renegade Templars that had joined their cause had all surrendered to her, offering their services to her on bended knee. She had pride sure, but she did not let that get in the way of what needed to be done, she could be humble when she needed to be. She denied no one there chance to come over to the side of the Inquisition.

Cassandra smiled.

She found herself wondering, a thousand years ago, a Fereldan slave girl had caught the eye of an Alamarri warlord, and together they had gathered legions and brought the southern arm of the Tevinter Imperium to its knees.

That woman had done so much with her words, her songs guiding a people to change the very face of the world. Had it not been for Andraste, the chantry would never have existed in the first place, so many had been inspired by her example.

Did Andraste know the effect she would have on the world?

Did Ana understand that effect that she would have on the world?

She knew that the Herald would not appreciate the comparison; she refused to accept that providence had any role in her survival. Cassandra had often heard her saying that she did not believe that the Maker or Andraste would choose someone like her to guide them out of the darkness.

The Seeker frowned.

Sometimes she wondered if Ana did some of things she did just to appear **less** a savior.

Things like what she was observing right now.

She stood back while Ana and Varric conversed with a Sister Tanner, they had found evidence on the Redcliffe road that the Lay sister was involved in lyrium smuggling, but instead of dealing with her as was proper, they chose a different path.

"What kind of protection have you been offered?" Varric inquired, "I don't see any guards around you. Surely you can do better than you are doing now."

The smuggler gave the two a fishy look.

"What do you suggest?" she asked.

The Herald gave her a soft smile.

"You could work for someone who understands the value of your work," she said, "The Inquisition has both mages and Templars at our beckon call. We could use your lyrium supply, and we would be willing to pay well for it, along with any interesting information you might come across."

The smuggler smiled at the girl and the dwarf.

"The mighty and righteous Inquisition wants to start hiring smugglers?"

The Herald only shrugged.

"Does it really matter who you get your gold from?" she asked, "The Inquisition is willing to pay good coin and we are willing to protect you to keep our supply lines open."

She smiled warmly.

"Sounds like a good deal to me, doesn't it sound good to you?"

The sister lightly tapped her chin.

"It does sound promising…hm?"

"Were not trying to trap you girl," Varric said, "If we wanted you dead, we would just turn you over to the mages here, I don't think that they would like that you have been selling to both sides. No, we want your product and whatever information that you hear. It's got to be better than what you have going here now."

Finally, the sister acquiesced; she offered her hand to Ana.

Cassandra shot the Herald and the dwarf a disapproving look.

She understood the value of contacts in low places, but still…

Buying illegal lyrium would do nothing to convince the people of the Inquisition's good will, it might even endanger it if the citizenry found out.

Ana noticed the look on her face as she and Varric returned to the rest of their party.

She gave Cassandra a sheepish look.

"You…disapprove?" the girl inquired.

"It is not **my** place to approve or disapprove," the Seeker sniffed.

Her answer did not seem to please the Herald. She understood that Ana wanted her respect, the Seeker wanted to give it to her, but still…smugglers.

It was a very slippery slope.

"We need allies Cassandra and I would much rather that the smugglers be selling to us than to our enemies. Anything we can do to bolster the Inquisition must be considered."

"Besides," Varric chuckled, "We need the smugglers, they hear things that legitimate lyrium dealers might not. We know that someone has been pedaling red lyrium to the Templars and mages in the hinterlands. I don't know about you Seeker, but after what I saw in Kirkwall, I would rather not let that stuff to continue to flow freely into the hands of our enemies."

Cassandra sighed and shook her head.

There it was again, Ana was frustrating her, but at the same time, she made her reasons so damn logical.

The seeker suspected that somewhere at the Maker's side, Byron was having a good hard laugh at her expense, how many times had she frustrated him with her temper and brash behavior…

…far too many to be sure.

Galyan would likely have been amused as well. Cassandra would have glared at him for a bit, and slowly…carefully…

The smile would have penetrated her defenses, as it always had.

She closed her eyes.

Byron was gone, as was Galyan; it was so strange that she heard them both more and more clearly as she continued her travels with Ana.

Their herald with all her courage and frustrating faults.

She was flawed yes, but maybe that was the point, maybe that was why so many had flocked to their banner.

It was not the call of history, or divine providence…

It was Ana herself, their herald…

Andraste save them all.

IOI

Ana turned away from the seeker, even though she could still feel the other woman's eye on her back, that hard stare pinning her like a knife.

You have done it again Ana, her conscience chided, you have disappointed someone.

She shook her head.

It shouldn't have been a surprise, she had been disappointing people her whole life.

It seemed to be the only thing she would ever offer her family.

Disappointment.

Ana had always been a source of disappointment, her mother, Lizzy, even her brother Andreas had had reason to give her the look more than once, she did not like it, but what could she do?

She had never been the good sister, daughter, or noble. She had always tried to be more…

…and as had happened so often, she had failed.

For some reason though, Cassandra's disappointment hurt more. The Seeker…she…they had come a long way since they had first met in that cell under the chantry. She still remembered Cassandra's barely restrained rage, if not for Leliana, she might have died right then and there. Since the Inquisition had begun she had tried to live up to Cassandra's expectations, to be the herald she expected her to be.

_It was __**not**__ an easy road to walk._

She did not like gaining the Seeker's ire; she had come to like Cassandra. She had come to depend on the woman's strength and morals…

No, she did not like seeing disapproval in the older woman's eyes, but at the same time she endured it.

The Inquisition needed allies, and she was willing to do what she had to find them.

She knew that Cassandra wanted to simply return to Haven and leave the mages to their fate, but she just could not do that. If there was even a chance she could save them, did she not owe them that?

She tried to put herself in Grand Enchanter Fiona's place, facing attacks from superior Templar forces. Would she have turned away aid if it appeared, would she have been that strong?

She did not think so.

As they made their way to the chantry she had a chance to stop and talk to many members of the mage rebellion. Most of them did not approve of this alliance with Alexius and his Tevinters. They had grown up hearing the same stories that she had, most would have preferred to take their chances with the Templars than stand up and be counted with a force, that most people considered almost as evil as the darkspawn. A few had even mentioned that they would not have left their circles had the Templars given them any choice. After the last meeting of the college of magi, after the previous lord seeker had tried to have all the First Enchanters arrested, they had simply not been given a choice.

_It had been fight, be made tranquil, or die, most chose to fight._

_She could not find fault with that. _

Ana glanced down at Felix's letter, she was not exactly sure what was waiting for them at the chantry, but whatever it was, she intended to find out.

"Be careful, Kiddo," Varric warned, "Lot of crazy shit happens at secret meetings in chantries. Everything from a possessed apostate meeting tranquil friends, to a pirate queen's welcoming party, anything could be in there."

Ana gave him an amused smile.

"I take it the chantry in Kirkwall was a little rough?"

Varric winced.

"It was…until it blew up."

That stopped any joking between the two of them.

_Damn, she thought, insensitive much!_

_Way to go Ana._

She knew that both Vivienne and Cassandra did not approve of what they were doing, yet she could not bring herself to stop, not if it freed Redcliffe from the Tevinters and brought the mages into the Inquisition.

Was it a trap, possibly, but it was a chance they had to take.

No one stopped then as they made their way up to the chantry doors. With the exception of the Revered Mother and Sister Tanner, they had seen no other priests here in Redcliffe. The mages they had met along the way said they had all been forced out.

It is strange, the Revered Mother had mentioned, even after four exalted marches against the imperium, the Tevinter Magisters still acknowledged the Maker as the one true god, now…they snickered and jeered at his very name.

It was most disturbing the priest had said.

The Herald did not know much about that. If the Tevinters here now laughed at those who worshipped the Maker…who do **they** choose to worship?

It was a good question, they…

Ana gasped as she stepped through the doors, the magic in her mark flared brightly, as time spun off kilter again.

The herald's blue eyes widened.

A fade rift sat right in the center of the chantry, spewing forth shades and terrors, and there standing in the midst of the demonic invaders stood a man. He lashed out with a bladed staff, cutting down a shade, before throwing fire into the face of a terror, sending it squealing back in pain and rage.

He spun on the new arrivals.

He was young and quite handsome, Ana noticed, short dark hair and a fine oiled mustache, his muscular arms were shiny with exertion, his tanned skinned marked him as a foreigner as much as the fine robes he wore.

He gave the herald, a cheery smile.

"Ah, there you are," he said jovially, "Bout time, please be a good lass and send these blighters back where they belong would you?"

Ana danced around a bubble of slow moving time, Varric rolled for cover and came up shooting, Bianca spitting death at the demons.

"Told ya, Kiddo," he called out, "Chantry meetings can kiss my dwarven ass!"

Cassandra dove into combat, slashing viciously at a terror trying to attack the foreigner.

Ana grinned as she spotted a bubble of fast moving time, her encounter at the gates giving her an idea, provided she did not get killed doing it, it would be quite brilliant.

She paused, calling out a challenge to the demons…

Three answered, they slithered towards her, eager for blood.

Ana paused, she waited.

Come closer, she thought…

…just a little closer.

"What are you doing?" The handsome stranger demanded.

""You will see," Ana purred.

The demons surrounded her, she saw Cassandra try to come to her aid. The Seeker would not make it.

Not that she needed to of course.

The herald smiled and stepped back.

She let the time bubble do the rest.

The Herald became a blur, she moved too fast for any demon to join her in the bubble, her blade spun like it was caught in a whirlwind.

The three demons were in pieces before they likely even knew what had happened.

Slightly exhausted Ana stepped out of the time bubble, her hair mussed, her face glowing with sweat and excitement.

Maker, what a rush!

"Nice move, dear lady," the stranger laughed, "but we still have a problem, this rift will…

Ana did not answer with words.

She flung her hand out.

Magic pulsed out of the mark and into the rift.

Ana felt the demons squeal in her mind, both the ones here, and those others trying to step through.

_Sorry_, she grinned.

_This door is closed._

She grabbed the magic with her mind, not settling just to grab a single strand, but to seizing a nice big hunk of the fabric.

She did not just pull, she yanked.

She felt the little hairs on her arms stand on end.

The rift struggled against her grip, but quickly began to lose cohesion.

The last of the demon's fell beneath Vivienne's onslaught. The mark pulsed as the magic drawn from the rift was pulled back in, then…

**POP!**

The air disbursed as time returned to normal, the magic faded as the rift closed, heavy shadows returned to normal, as the smell of wood and incense reasserted itself.

Ana was breathless, but pleased.

She might still disappoint people sometimes, but this…this…

She was good at it.

The stranger turned, his eyes moving over finally stopping at the mark.

"Fascinating," he whispered.

Ana felt a slight blush come to her cheeks.

"I also play a mean game of wicked grace," she purred.

The stranger smiled.

"I will have to remember that."

Something in his words made her stomach twist nervously.

Where was this coming from?

Was she actually flirting with this man?

"How does that work anyway?" he asked pointing to her hand.

She did not respond. It was hard to put into words.

He took it as confusion perhaps.

"You don't know do you?" he chuckled, "You just wiggle your fingers and…boom…rift closes."

Something in his words made her pride prickle, color flooded her cheeks.

"It is more complex than that ser," she said slightly miffed.

"I'm sure it is," He replied.

Cassandra cleared her throat loudly, breaking the spell the two had woven around each other. They both turned to face the Seeker.

She was scowling again.

"We were expecting the Magister's son."

The stranger chuckled.

"Felix will be here soon, probably had to give his father the slip. The fact that you are here means that you got my letter."

Ana tilted her head curiously.

"You sent the letter?"

"That is correct," the man grinned, "I did not expect are demonic friends showing up, but that is the way of demons is it not, they always show up to crash parties."

Cassandra crossed her arms.

"We would not know."

"Of course not, good woman," he replied, taking no notice of the venom in her words.

Once again he turned to Ana.

"But where are my manners," he said with an elegant bow.

"Dorian," he began, "of House Pavus, formerly of the glorious city of Minrathous, at your service my good woman."

Ana blinked.

_The formal greeting of the noble court, she had not seen it in years. It had fallen out of favor in Ostwick._

Almost on reflex she dropped into a full curtsey.

"Anastasia Aliza," she began, "of House Trevelyan, formerly of the glorious city of Ostwick, at yours, good ser."

She raised her hand, as she had been taught by her mother so long ago.

The stranger, Dorian smirked.

Behind them Cassandra crossed her arms.

"Another Tevinter," she spat, "Be cautious."

Ana only partly heard her. Dorian reached out and took her offered hand.

He lightly, chastely kissed her knuckle, the first true sight of noble manners she had seen in months.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Anastasia," he purred.

The kiss sent a little lightning up her arm, she…she…

She almost giggled.

_Oh my._


	17. Objects of Love and Hate

**Chapter 17: Objects of Love and Hate**

"Is something wrong, my dear?"

Ana chuckled softly to herself, though she appreciated Vivienne's concern she did not have a good answer for her.

They were riding west out of Redcliffe heading back towards the farmlands and from there Haven itself, Master Dennitt had come through for the Inquisition in a big way. The stories about the strength and skill of his horses did not truly do the magnificent beasts justice, not only that, but the old horse master had even joined the Inquisition himself, adding his considerable skill to their corps of experts. Getting him had been a real coup for Ana, Lady Vivienne had helped, suggesting that she could find one of the finest horse masters in Orlais, after that the man's Ferelden pride made it impossible for him to refuse their request.

Yet now, Ana was not thinking of that victory, she had too much on her mind right now for anything other than what she had learned in the Redcliffe chantry.

She was still trying to make sense of all of it, everything she had heard from Felix and Dorian. The evidence she had seen, it was circumstantial at best, but…it was still quite strong.

The herald shook her head; her thoughts were abuzz with what she had learned. She had never been happier to be out of a place as she had Redcliffe, away from the Tevinters' prying eyes. She still feared that they were being watched, it was said that some mages had the ability to change into birds and beasts. Those stories haunted her thoughts now, the secrets of magic that she did not understand, secrets that continued to reach out to her from the bowels of Redcliffe Castle.

_There are worse things than death in this world Dorian_, Felix had said those words.

She found herself believing that, despite all that she had faced in the last few months, magic remained a mystery to her. Solas had been trying to help her understand, but she was still only a layman.

She needed answers, and who better to provide them than a master mage of the circle.

She glanced at the First Enchanter; Vivienne seemed her old unflappable self. Ana would not deny it, she was envious of that. What they had heard in the chantry, what they had seen.

How could the First Enchanter remain so cool and calm, if even half of what Dorian Pavus had told them was true.

_They were __**all **__in grave danger._

Both Felix and Dorian had confirmed that. Magister Alexius was just not some noble mage from Tevinter; he was a cultist, a member of a group of Tevinter supremacists calling themselves the Venatori. According to Dorian, Alexius had been experimenting for some time with the concept of time magic, seeking to explore past events and even change them to control the course of the future. That was how he had reached Redcliffe so quickly. He had twisted time with his spells and therefore arrived just in time to steal the free mages out from under Inquisition's noses. Vivienne doubted his claim, but Dorian remained adamant. He had been Alexius' apprentice once; the two of them had worked together on his experiments into the field, though he had never gotten the time magic to work before. Dorian had apparently turned against his former mentor when he began working with the Venatori, Felix had joined him out of love and concern for his father's welfare, and now they wished to aid the Inquisition against this enemy, and more importantly her.

That was another point that worried the Herald. Felix had told her frankly that his father had become fascinated with her in the months following the Conclave, and apparently he was not the only one. The Venatori as a whole had grown obsessed with her, why that was neither Felix nor Dorian could say, but one thing was certain. The Venatori wanted **her** from some reason.

She knew that she could not let that come to pass.

The thought that a Tevinter cult was pursuing you, would be hard to endure for most people, Ana understood that.

She was **one **of **those **people.

Why would some Tevinter cult want her? Yes, she could seal the rifts with the magic in the mark, but beyond that, she was just a common soldier, skilled perhaps, but still just another soldier, regardless of what everyone else thought of her.

She started of all the nightmare tales she had heard about Tevinter. Blood magic, human sacrifice and consorting with demons those were just some of the crimes that the Magisters were guilty of.

She grimaced.

She could not imagine what such people would do with her. What would they do to try and understand the power of her mark?

She tried not to think about it. That way lay terror, and she needed to be strong for the rest of the Inquisition.

She needed to find that strength, despite her fears.

Despite the part of her wanted this to be all some bad dream

She sighed trying to muster her courage; she remembered a conversation she had had with Researcher Minaeve.

_Once you understand something it was not so scary, _Ana needed that right now.

She needed it **desperately.**

She glanced at the dark skinned mage, normally she would have gone to Solas with this, but she could not wait, she needed answers right now, the First Enchanter was likely the one person who could give her those. She swallowed hard and gathered her wits.

_Well,_ she thought.

_Here we go._

"Madame Vivienne?"

"Yes, my dear?"

Ana sat a little straighter in her saddle. The chestnut brown Ferelden Forder she had gotten from Master Dennitt barely acknowledged her movement, so surefooted was the beautiful beast.

She smiled slightly.

She was glad at least one of them was calm, she certainly wasn't. She…

"Lady Ana?"

The herald cursed under her breath.

Right, questions and answers, she hoped the woman had something for her.

"Is it possible?" she asked.

The mage turned her to face her.

"Is what possible?"

Ana blinked and gripped the reins of her horse a little tighter.

"Everything we heard in Redcliffe," she responded, "Time magic, a Tevinter cult chasing after me. Using the rifts to manipulate time, is it possible?"

The woman laughed lightly, the dismissive laugh of a noble trying to make light of the situation.

Ana recognized it for what it was, she had seen mother use it many times.

Finally, the First Enchanter smiled.

"When I was an apprentice," she began, "One of my instructors taught me that with magic, anything was possible, as long as you had the imagination, and were prepared to pay the price. The concept of time magic is quite old, my dear. Mages have toyed with the idea for many generations."

Ana frowned.

"So you believe it **is **possible?"

"We both saw what the rifts in Redcliffe were capable of," the other woman shrugged, "Perhaps our new Tevinter friends were right, perhaps these…these Venatori **have** found a way to use the breach to manipulate time, perhaps they are behind everything that has happened since the Conclave…"

The First Enchanter's expression turned deadly serious.

"If all that is true, then we now know **who** assassinated the Divine. Our enemy has finally revealed themselves, which gives us the advantage."

Her expression turned predatory.

"I told you back in Orlais that I wished to face our enemy, now that we have a name, we can find them, and destroy them."

She smiled slightly.

"I'm sure our dear Seeker is more than pleased."

Ana glanced back at Cassandra, she did not look pleased, but then she rarely did. The Seeker had said little since their flight from Redcliffe. She still wished to leave the mages to their fate, but Ana was still not sure.

Most of the mages she had spoken with in Redcliffe were good people, most had not wanted the war that came to pass, and more than a few had not wanted to join Tevinter. Many even were convinced that they should have remained in their circles, but the Templars had given them little choice.

Ana did not like the idea of giving up on people, and she certainly did not like the idea of the Venatori converting the free mages into an arm of their legions, provided they even had legions to field…

No Alexius was dangerous enough if he had both time magic, an army of mages, and one of the most secure fortresses in all of Ferelden…

That would be very, very bad.

She would put out feelers to the Templars, see if they could be convinced to join the Inquisition, but at the same time, she did not want to leave a Venatori stronghold so close to the Inquisition's doorstep.

Vivienne must have seen the concern on her face, the mage smiled again dismissively.

"Enough of such dark talk,' she said, "The war council will decide what to do with these Tevinter fools, in the meantime, my dear, I have some advice for you if you will permit me."

"Very well," Ana shrugged, "What is on your mind?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Indeed, I saw the way you were acting back there; I think we need to have a little chat, woman to woman."

Ana winced.

She did not think that she was going to enjoy the next few minutes.

Vivienne brought her steed closer, she lowered her voice so not to be overheard by the others, or perhaps she used a spell to guarantee their privacy, the herald could not tell.

"I could not help but notice your reaction back in Redcliffe; I feel it is my duty to help guide you down a much safer path."

"Really, what path might that be?"

The mage gave her a knowing smile.

"I saw how you responded to Master Dorian's flattery within the chantry; I understand that it was quite intriguing. Puppy love can be fun, my dear, but might I suggest you remain on your original course."

Ana hiccupped.

_What?_

"Madame Vivienne," she giggled nervously, "I…I…um… really don't know what you are talking about?"

The mage smiled.

"Come now, my dear, I am not blind. I have been around enough noble ladies to recognize when they have an agenda."

Ana's brow furrowed.

Had she had an agenda? She had not thought she had, still…

She could not deny that she found Dorian's flirtations…charming. She…she…

Oh Maker!

Her cheeks turned pink.

Vivienne laughed lightly.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of, my dear. A young woman has many weapons at her disposal besides her strength and her mind. Leliana would likely have approved, but you need to pick your battles more carefully."

"You think I was flirting with him…to gain his loyalty?"

"I suspect he might have been doing the same," the mage advised, "Remember my dear, we may be at war with these Venatori, and this Dorian might still be allied with them. Try to take your heart out of the equation, if you can manipulate him, do it, but as I said, stay your original course, it will go much better for you I think."

Ana's brow furrowed again.

"My original course, what is my original course?

Vivienne gave her a knowing look.

"Commander Cullen, my dear, you should continue to pursue that match."

Ana's cheeks went from pink to scarlet.

She…she…

"I…I don't know what you are talking about," she stammered, "Cullen and I are friends and… colleagues. It doesn't matter that I think he is handsome, any woman would, not that I would be pleased to hear another woman say anything to the point, but then again why should I care. I…I…."

Vivienne said nothing, she did not need to.

Ana lowered her head in surrender.

"Please stop looking at me like that."

The dark skinned mage chuckled.

"As I said my dear, you have nothing to be ashamed of, in truth I applaud your choice, and it is an excellent move."

Ana's brow furrowed.

_She had not realized being a stupid girl with a crush was a move, good or bad._

"Your power is growing within the Inquisition; I can see that with each passing day. The scouts trust you, the refugees we have helped adore you, and as your legend grows more will flock to our banner because we fight at your side."

Vivienne gave her a knowing look.

"Cassandra trusts you, and is hopeful you will be the herald she wants you to be, that gives you two voices on the war council. If you seduce our handsome commander, well…that will give you control of our soldier through him. Sister Leliana and dear Josephine will be out voted on any issue you desire."

The mage smirked.

"A brazen strategy, my dear, I applaud you for making an excellent move."

Ana was almost speechless.

Vivienne thought…she thought that her interest in Cullen was for political gain? It wasn't…she…she was not trying to seduce Cullen to get what she wanted in the Inquisition. Maker save her, she doubted that she even could seduce Cullen.

Her thoughts drifted back to the last few years in Ostwick. Ana could never compete with Lizzy when it came to garnering the attraction of men. Lizzy was tall and lush with an hourglass figure, and a mane of fiery red hair. Ana was more of tent pole, or at least that is how she saw herself compared to her sister. Though she was strong and athletic she did not possess the features that drew men's attention. She was small chested, and she had never had any luck swaying her hips and giggling like an idiot. People had told her that she was cute before, but never desirable, never wanted.

Who would want her when they could have Lizzy?

The herald sighed. Part of her wanted to tell the First Enchanter off for making such a ridiculous suggestion, but another part of her made her hold her tongue.

If what Vivienne thought made her more respectful, that was good news for the Inquisition. So what if she could not seduce Cullen, let Vivienne believe she was trying.

The illusion of strength and skill was just as valuable as actual strength and skill.

She smiled weakly.

"I…um…I'm glad you approve."

The mage smiled.

"Think nothing of it my dear; I knew from the moment we met that we were kindred souls. I shall continue to support you in your endeavors, and together we shall do some good in this world.

Ana nodded.

That sounded more than good to her.

She gave the mage what she thought was an ingratiating smile.

"Is that why you married Duke Bastien, to gain greater position within the court?'

Vivienne laughed at that.

"Oh my dear, how amusing," she chuckled, "No my Bastien was a good match, and an excellent connection, just as your dear Cullen would be for you, but no, I am not wed to my darling, oh no, marriage is the business of alliances and heirs as you well know from your youth in Ostwick."

She gave the girl a gentle smile.

"No, I am Duke Bastien's mistress, and that is more than enough to suit my needs."

Ana winced at that.

"What does the duchess think of your…relationship with her husband?"

"Oh we were good friends my dear, we hosted many a salon together. Alas, she passed away a few years ago from a fever, such a shame really, I truly enjoyed her company."

The herald shook her head.

She understood what Vivienne was telling her, but she did not entirely like it. Most of her parents friends and lovers and mistresses, it was to be expected of their class. However…

She did not like to think about that too hard. She did not want to think about Mother and Papa having people they preferred to spend time with other than their own family. She…she had never wanted that for herself.

No, maybe she was a romantic fool, but she wanted to marry someone that she adored, and adored her back. She wanted more than just business and sex, she wanted love.

It was not an easy thing to come by in this world, love like that. There was too much money and power going around, and it often destroyed any chance of true affection.

Could she have that with Cullen, she did not know. He likely did not even care for her.

In the end maybe that was for the best.

If she could not find love, she would have to settle for duty.

It would be a cold comfort, but at least it was safe.

It the uncertain world they lived in now.

Safe was better.


	18. Lona

**A/N: Some of the events here will be happening out of order from the game, for story effect you understand. After Ana and Vivienne's discussion last chapter, I felt it was time to get inside Cullen's head. Hopefully, it will clear up some of **_**his**_** motivations here, enjoy!**

**Chapter 18: Lona**

"**I won't have it!"**

Ana shot Cullen a surprised look; he realized that perhaps he had overstepped his bounds. The war council shared power here, and they had yet to vote on this newest plan, but…

He could not help it; he would not simply let their Herald walk into a nest of Tevinters…of blood mages.

_He remembered very well what they did. It was a lesson he had learned well a decade ago._

"We cannot afford to leave Redcliffe in the hands of a hostile enemy commander," she repeated, "After what I saw in Redcliffe I'm not prepared to leave those people there, not if what Dorian is telling us is the truth."

"These Tevinters do represent a threat," Cassandra added, " I would prefer to leave the mages to lay in the beds they have made, but…if these Venatori are behind the death of the Most Holy, they deserve to answer for that.

"Then let's lay siege to Redcliffe," he spat back.

Both Sister Leliana and Ambassador Montilyet shook their head.

"That will not work, commander, as you well know," Leliana said, "Redcliffe Castle is one of the most secure fortresses in all of Ferelden, it has withstood dozens of attacks over the years, and besides, we don't have the men or the resources to carry out such a campaign."

"And then there are the Fereldan nobles to consider, "Josephine added, "The Fereldans would not stand for it. An Inquisition, with many ties to Orlais, marching a full army onto their lands, the Banns would interpret it as an invasion, an act of war."

The herald glanced at the Ambassador.

"What about the nobles," she asked, "Arl Teagan of Redcliffe is still its rightful ruler. Perhaps he could help us."

It was Leliana that answered her.

"Arl Teagan has fled to Denerim since he was removed by the Tevinters. My sources say he is currently staying at the royal palace with King Alistair, trying to rally enough support and aid to reclaim his Arling."

Cassandra growled.

"Then we are running out of time, if the King brings the Fereldan army against Redcliffe the mages will no doubt try and defend themselves. It will be a slaughter for both sides, and a long siege that will make the mages useless to us."

"The let us go to the Templars," Cullen suggested, he turned to Leliana.

"Haven't your people found where the Lord Seeker led the order yet?"

"They have," she nodded, "the Templar order has fallen back to Therinfall Redoubt in eastern Ferelden."

The herald raised an eyebrow.

"The Lord Seeker brought his Templars here to Ferelden?"

"The mage rebellion is here," Cassandra reminded her, "Perhaps the Lord Seeker wishes to crush them with one swift stroke."

"Yet he has not moved against the mages yet?"

"Not that my people have seen," Leliana replied.

Lady Trevelyan shook her head.

"Doesn't that strike any of you as a bit odd, especially after the Lord Seeker's grandstanding in Orlais?"

No one responded, but they did not need to.

Cullen suspected that in this at least, they were all in agreement.

"We need to know what is going on over there," she added.

"The Templars will not see us," Josephine reminded her, "I might be able to gather enough noble support to gain the Lord Seeker's attention, but…"

"That will take time," Ana interrupted, "time we don't have if we are racing the Ferelden army."

The herald sighed heavily.

"We know what the Venatori want, me," she said, "Maybe I can use this to our advantage."

Cullen snorted at that.

"You would trust the word of this Dorian?"

The Tevinter mage had arrived in Haven shortly after the herald and her company had returned to Redcliffe. He had spoken before the war council, repeating what he had told their people after the fight in the chantry.

The Commander had not been able to stop frowning since the man had arrived. He did not trust the man, and he certainly did not like how the man was trying to appeal to Lady Trevelyan, the warm comments were clearly meant to distract her from doing what she knew was right.

She once again gave him a surprised look.

"He has no reason to lie to us," she reminded him, "He had no more desire to see the Tevinters playing with time then we do."

"I still do not like it," he responded.

She frowned at him.

"I don't see why you are so hostile over this," she said, "Dorian has done nothing to warrant that has he?"

He did not respond right away.

"The herald…Lady Trevelyan…Ana had no idea what it was like to be under the tender mercies of blood mages. He had felt such hospitality himself once. He still had nightmares about what Uldred and his followers had done…what they had done to her.

He would never forget that.

Lona.

He would never forget what those bastards had done to her.

IOI

Ten years ago he had still been a raw recruit, he had been in training for more than five years at that point, and found himself assigned to the Circle of Magi in Ferelden.

At first it had been easy; he obeyed Greagoir's orders and carried out his patrols as expected. He had not been very familiar with mages at that point. He understood what was expected of him, and what his duties were…

Then…he met a young apprentice named Solona Amell, and everything changed.

Lona…was not like any girl he had met before, tall, willowy, with pale skin and long white blond hair. Her blue eyes sparkled like sapphires in the darkness, her manner though regal at times was warm. The two of them seemed to find any excuse to see each other, casual encounters in the hallways, glances at evening meals. She…he…they…

They had been so young back then, so innocent.

Sadly it did not last.

One of Lona's friends, her best friend in fact, an elf named Neria Surana had aided a blood mage in destroying his phylactery and escaping the tower. The elven girl had been well known in the circle, respected, she had been the First Enchanter's apprentice, one of the finest students, next to Solona herself of course.

Greagoir had shown no mercy when the girl's crimes were revealed. He personally carried out the girl's execution. All the mages had watched as the girl was beheaded outside the tower.

Lona…had been devastated.

She had spent the weeks after the execution avoiding him. He had wanted to go to her, comfort her, but he had been afraid what she might say when they finally spoke.

It had been several weeks after the battle of Ostagar when they had finally gotten their chance.

He had just finished his nightly rounds. He had been on his way back to the barracks, cutting through the mage quarters.

"Cullen?"

The voice was soft and pained.

Lona, his dear Lona.

She stood at the door to her room; she had passed her Harrowing a few days earlier.

His breath had caught in his throat.

Lona was a vision. Her long white mane down in a single braid down her back, the airy blue nightgown she wore tantalized him, showing too much, yet far too little.

"My…My lady," he had stammered.

"Could you come inside," she whispered, "I…I need to talk to someone."

He swallowed hard.

_She…he…inside her room, the two of them…together…alone?_

_Oh dear._

He had followed her nervously; she smiled slightly as he stepped through the door. She closed it behind them.

Again he had swallowed hard.

"Is…is there something I can do for you Lona…I mean Solona…"

"Yes," she cooed, she was blushing now.

"Yes there is something."

She fell upon him like a lioness.

She kissed him fiercely.

He had been so surprised, he had not resisted. He just stood there, dumbstruck.

She…what was she…?

She pulled back, tears glistening in her blue eyes.

"Cullen," she pleaded, "Please…please."

His heart hammered in his chest, his thoughts whirled like a hurricane, caught up in a flurry of emotions.

…Caught up in a flurry of lust.

He growled and seized her again, kissing her fiercely. She groaned in sweet surrender, wrapping her long pale legs around his waist.

He carried her to the bed.

She helped undress him; he pulled her nightgown up and over her head. She wore nothing underneath. The sight left him breathless.

She threw him down on the bed, taking the lead in their lovemaking. It had been his first time.

…And his last.

He was not sure how long it was after they had finished, the two of them laying in each other's arms, lost in dizzy contentment, and sweaty exhaustion.

The sound of screams woke them, that and the clash of metal.

The alarm bell rang out it had been enchanted long ago to sound throughout the tower. Cullen knew what that bell meant, though he never thought he would ever hear it.

The circle had been breached, they were under attack.

Cullen sprang from the bed, pulling on his trousers, grabbing his sword.

Lona rose as well, grabbing a bath robe and her staff.

The door exploded inward.

An abomination ran shrieking into the room.

It backhanded Cullen flinging him into the wall, leaving him seeing stars.

Lona fired a lightning bolt at the creature; it blasted it back into the hall, where it exploded with a flash of light and ash. It should have been the end of it, but it was not.

Several mages strode in after it, their robes wet with fresh blood, a demonic glow in their eyes.

"What is this now," one had chortled, "Sporting with Templars? How disappointing, whatever will your mentors say."

He turned to Cullen; he had tried to rise, but…

"STAY AWAY FROM HIM!" Lona shouted, magic making her voice sound like thunder.

Both mages turned on her, they raised their staves.

Lona gestured blue fire sprang up before Cullen protecting him shielding him.

"No," he shouted.

Lona put up a shield blocking the first mage's attack, a wall of jagged icicles. The second did something she was not expecting.

The renegade mage slit his hand. Blood whirled around him as Lona tried to reinforce her shield.

Cullen tried to struggle to his feet. He tried to call on the will to smite the pair.

A third mage materialized out of the shadow, red haired giggling, her skin looked too tight on her face, fangs pushing through her lower lip.

She gestured catching him in a stasis spell.

The sight distracted Lona, not long, just a few seconds, but it was enough.

The blood spell struck out, it dissolved her spell, his Lona, his love.

The magic wrapped around her.

Solona Amell had screamed.

The spell caused her to melt like a wax candle, she might have tried a healing spell, her blue eyes flashed with aqua fire for a second, but then…it was over…

She was gone.

A puddle of pale liquid, and few bones was all that remained.

Cullen wailed in fury unable to move.

The first blood mage glowered at her killer.

"We could have used that one," he spat.

"Uldred won't care;" the killer sneered back, "Any mage who would lay with a Templar doesn't deserve to live if you ask me.

The abomination behind them giggled, it pointed at Cullen.

The first mage sneered.

"Bring this one, lock him up with the others; Uldred might still have use for him."

He glared hatefully at them, tears running down his face, these monsters, these mages…

They had murdered her, killed his love!

He would see them all die for it!

They had tortured him for days. He had watched Lona die a hundred, a thousand times during those long hours of torment, but he never broke, he never forgot his promise.

They would pay, all of them!

ALL OF THEM!

IOI

"Cullen?"

He blinked; Lady Trevelyan was looking at him with concern in her eyes.

Her bright blue eyes, so much like Lona's…

_So much like his first love's, so much like is poor doomed Lona._

He shook his head, trying to shake off the memories of the past. The echo of Lona's final screams in his ears.

It was a sound he would never forget, and would never escape.

"My apologies Milady," he murmured, "My mind was elsewhere."

She gave him a shy smile.

"I know the feeling," she replied.

Cullen shook his head.

He had spent almost ten years lost in hate. He had let Knight-Commander Meredith twist those feelings to her advantage. He had been blind to her ravings, he knew what she was doing was wrong, the way she squeezed the mages, but had said nothing, after what had happened to Lona.

He had wanted the mages to suffer, to see all of them suffer.

Part of him still did not want to help the mages in Redcliffe, they were powerful sure, but how many had already turned to blood magic, how many more would become abominations.

For a moment, he found himself watching Lady Trevelyan, their Herald, she was strong and brave, but she was also naïve, she did not understand the evil that mages could do. Yet, if she believed that they could save the mages, bring them under Inquisition control; he would stand by her decision.

He would do his best to shield her; he would not sit by helplessly as he had done when Lona had died.

He smiled slightly at the girl.

Lona would have liked Ana, he thought.

They likely would have been fast friends.

He sighed softly and leaned back in his chair, not really hearing his fellows talking.

He was thinking of Lona, how her death had almost destroyed him.

It was ironic, Lona's death had left him so cold and full of hate, yet it was another Amell mage that made him question all of that, that started him on his path to the Inquisition.

The Lady Bethany, Solona's cousin…not an Amell but a Hawke.

She had saved him, just as her Champion brother had tried to save Kirkwall.

She had won a small victory, but perhaps it would lead to a larger one.

Perhaps he could help Lady Ana and the Inquisition.

Perhaps then…his Lona could rest.

Perhaps then…the screams would finally stop.

Perhaps.

**A/N: If this version of Solona sounds familiar, I meant her to look like the Solona from my story Viscountess Amell, if that Solona had been sent to the circle. Part of me wants to use Ana in the Inquisition story about Viscountess Amell, if you are curious to hear that tale, let me know.**

**Until next time dear readers!**

**DG**


	19. The Bait on the Hook

**Chapter 19: The Bait on the Hook**

It took the inquisition almost a month to prepare for Ana's…meeting with Magister Alexius.

He had said raven to Haven, asking that she come alone, in the interest of both good will, and as a show of faith. Even if Felix and Dorian had not warned them about the Venatori and Alexius' intentions, only a fool would not suspect a trap.

Of course, as Leliana said her old friend Elissa Cousland liked to say: Traps could sometimes work both ways.

It would take time, Leliana assured her fellow counselors but she was sure that she could find a way to turn the tables on the Magister, provided that Ana kept him occupied, and Dorian played **his** part.

Again Cullen voiced his concern about this plan, he did not like using their Herald this way. If anything went wrong they risked losing the one person who had the power to seal the rifts. However if they did nothing, then the mages would likely find themselves either shipped back to Tevinter, or thrown against Haven when the Venatori were ready to move.

For Ana, there was no other choice, she would trust that Sister Leliana would do her part, and hope for the best.

Of course, there were still two factors that needed to be dealt with; the first was the Fereldan army. Leliana's agents had finally confirmed that King Alistair was bringing troops against Redcliffe Castle. Before the month was out three full legions would march into Redcliffe, secure the town, and remove the mages from their sanctuary. Leliana tried to get a message to her old friend and travelling companion, but none of her agents could get close to Alistair, since the disappearance of his wife, the King had grown increasingly distant.

Leliana said nothing, but Ana could tell she was worried about her friend the Warden Queen. According to the sister, she was the only person who she trusted completely, with the loss of that connection, the former bard slipped deeper into her schemes and plots.

They would have less than a week to finish the business with Alexius before the Ferelden army arrived.

_It would have to be enough._

The second point to deal with was the Templars. The Inquisition could not risk sending their troops to Theirinfall Redoubt, and the Templars continued to refuse to answer any raven sent their way. The Inquisition would prefer not to strike at the Magister, and find themselves caught between his forces, and the Templars trying to deal with the issue themselves. So far, Leliana's agents had noticed no movement from the Templars within the Redoubt, but that could change at a moment's notice.

Ana suggested sending the Bull's Chargers, to investigate the Redoubt, and make sure they had warning if the Templars decided to move. The mercenary company could move fast, and since they were not formal Inquisition soldiers, the war council had deniability if things turned violent. If the Templars did decide to march, the chargers could slow their advance, and give the Inquisition time to get the mages out of Redcliffe after the Magister was neutralized. Lieutenant Aclassi agreed to lead the mission himself; Iron Bull had great faith in the lad and assured the council that he could do it.

Mother Giselle blessed the soldiers as they marched off to battle, even those that did not worship the Maker seemed pleased to have at least the promise of holy protection.

As for Ana herself she stayed busy, up to the last minute. The Inquisition's battles in the Hinterlands turned up Valammar, an old dwarven trading post being used by the Carta. The dwarven criminals had been behind the massive bandit activity in the region, using mercenaries to scare away any prying eyes, as they continued to peddle red lyrium to both the Templars and mages.

Varric who had a personal hatred for the foul stuff knew that they could not let that stand. He and Ana led an assault on the mercenary's base in the southern Hinterlands, and retrieved both a map and a key to the old dwarven outpost.

When they finally struck the place, they slew every last Carta dwarf they could find. Blackwall had accompanied them, which was a good thing as it turned out. Darkspawn had already been moving into the upper levels of the ruin, but with Vivienne's help they had managed to cut the monsters off.

Ana had never seen a darkspawn before that moment, Varric had described the creatures to her, but seeing them in person, words did not do them justice. They looked like a cross between a diseased corpse, and some demonic animal, but all you had to do was look into those milky white eyes to see the cunning that burned there. Blackwall proved his skill in that place, shielding her from the darkspawns' arrows, and even killing the hurlock alpha that was likely leading the band. Vivienne collapsed their entrance, with luck it would keep the creatures from venturing up to the surface. Ferelden had enough problems right now; it did not need the darkspawn to…

Though as dangerous as the darkspawn were, Varric remained insistent that they locate and destroy every piece of red lyrium they could find.

The herald had heard what had happened in Kirkwall, both to Varric's brother, and Knight-Commander Meredith. It would be best to make sure that such events did not repeat themselves.

If half the things that Varric said about red lyrium were true, it could not be allowed to be readily available to their enemies, if that wasn't worse, rumors had started to reach the Inquisition of a group calling itself the Red Templars, a new order that seemed more than interested in Red Lyrium and its effects.

The Inquisition hoped this was just another outlaw offshoot of the Templar order, maybe even a lever they could take to the Lord Seeker to convince them of the justness of their cause, once again their correspondence went unanswered.

Hopefully it was just the Templars being arrogant and not something far worse.

IOI

The day she was scheduled to meet with the Magister, Ana found herself sitting beside a fire in the Inquisition's Dusklight camp. The morning sun just beginning to lighten the sky around them. Being their closest base to Redcliffe, the Inquisition had descended here, awaiting the order from Leliana to proceed with the next phase of their plan.

Ana warmed her hands over the fire, trying to steady her nerves. She would be going into Redcliffe Castle with only Solas and Sera as her backup, and neither would be armed. They would be disguised as elven servants. As a mage, Solas' abilities would be…lessened without a staff, but if Leliana's plan went as they had hoped, the Inquisition would penetrate the castle and her friends would be rearmed before any fighting started. Then they could…

"**UGH!** HERALD IS THIS A JOKE!? TELL ME THIS IS A JOKE, BECAUSE IF IT IS NOT I'M GOING TO SHOOT YOU, AND IF IT IS, IT IS NOT **FUNNY**!"

Both she and Solas glanced up from their breakfast. Sera stalked towards them holding her servant's coat like it was a piece of road kill, the look on her face suggested it was something worse.

Ana tried to console her ally, while trying not to laugh at the girl's reaction, not wishing to cause any problems before the mission even started.

"It isn't a joke, Sera," she said trying to reassure the elf, "It is the only way we can get you into the Castle. Alexius will not allow me to bring armed bodyguards, but servants; he should not be offended by that."

The blond elf gave her a look that bordered on murderous; her ears were lying back like an angry cat's.

"I'm going shoot you for this, yeah, you know that right?"

"There is no need for violence," she said holding up her hands, "Not against me anyway, and besides look at that lovely coat. After you've cleaned up a bit, you are going to look cute, and…and…"

Sera's glare intensified.

Ana coughed.

"Or…not," she said meekly, "I'm going to stop right there."

"**UGH!**" Sera hissed, "Why do I have to wear this? It looks so…so poncey! None of my friends are going to take me serious-like after this."

The noble was trying to think of a good way to respond, not wanting to piss the archer off more than she already was, but found herself coming up empty. Sera was not like the elves she had known growing up, she never could tell what would insult the girl or compliment her.

Sera rarely made sense to her; her one grace was her championing of the common folk. Still, the girl remained an enigma; she claimed not to have been trained by anyone. She claimed she had no family ties left. For Ana, family had been everything growing up; it had defined who she was.

Facing someone who claimed not to have a relevant past, made no sense to her, not that Sera made sense on a regular basis anyway.

The herald was still trying to figure her out, and if she could do it without pissing the elf off in the process so much the better.

_If only she could stop putting her foot in her mouth._

Fortunately Solas came to her rescue, he might not have been a knight in shining armor, but he was definitely a savior.

He gave the archer a soft smile.

"Think of this as one of your games," he told her, "You are just pretending to be a servant to get close to your target, which is the truth."

She considered that for a moment. Finally, she snorted.

"If this **was** one of my games," she said sullenly, "Some noble bastard would be covered in shite and feathers, or have an arrow in his face, one or the other, maybe even both…"

Ana winced slightly, hoping against hope that she never found herself on the elf's bad side.

Being a noble in the girl's presence was not the best of things.

Suddenly, a manic smile spread across Sera's features, her eyes flashed with malicious glee.

"This magister tit," she sneered, "He is some big lord fancy pants back in the Imperium, yeah?"

"So, I would guess," Ana replied.

The archer burst into a fit of giggles.

"You just got to let me deal with him, when we are done," she said gleefully, "Both magical and a lord, this is the kind of thing the friends were made for. You got to let me do my thing."

Ana winced again.

Part of her was afraid to ask what thing, the elf had in mind, what thing she was talking about, best she…

"Your Worship?"

Ana turned, she blinked at the sight before her. A young elven woman in a fine dress approached her, with her hair styled and her face enhanced with make-up Ana barely recognized her.

"Ritts?" she asked, "Is that you?"

The elven agent smiled.

"I just returned from Redcliffe. I was meeting with a…contact there, they…"

It was at that moment that Cassandra moved up next to the girl, her hard expression even more glacial than ever.

The Seeker was in charge of the assault team moving into the castle, she would lead the men and make sure that Dorian Pavus remained loyal to the cause. The Magister's former apprentice claimed that he could get the Inquisition's agents past his old master's wards.

Not that they would have a chance of doing that if Ritts had failed in her mission.

The Seeker pinned the disguised scout with a patient stare.

"Report," she demanded.

"Mission accomplished, your ladyship," the elf answered, she reached into a small pouch at her belt.

She handed the small golden object to Cassandra; the seeker inspected it for a moment, and finally nodded.

She was clearly pleased with the scout turned agent's work.

Ana blinked.

_It looked like a signet ring, but who's_ she wondered.

"Did you have any problem?" the Seeker inquired.

"Not at all," Ritts answered, "Connor…he is a very bright young man, a real sweet heart too, so lonely though, the poor dear. I didn't tell him who I was or whom I serve, but still…I think he likely knew."

Cassandra's eyes narrowed.

"You are saying our plan is compromised?"

"Not at all," she answered, "He has no love for the Tevinters. I could tell that just from talking with him. No one in Redcliffe knew who I was, and I have no doubt that they will **not** find out from him and besides…"

The elf smiled warmly, a slight blush coloring her pale ears.

After the night I gave him," she smirked, "I doubt he would want to tell the magister, anything."

"Hm," Cassandra replied coldly.

The herald's eyes widened.

Did…did Ritts mean…did she mean?

Ana felt a blush creep into her cheeks.

_Oh my!_

_Wait, she had thought that Ritts preferred the company of other women. Would she have truly gone that far if she did? She had heard from Varric he had a friend that preferred both, but still…still…_

The herald's blush darkened.

She knew that Inquisition soldiers pledged to do what was necessary…

She just did not realize just how far **that** was…

She hoped that **she** would never have to go that far. Still if Ritts had succeeded, and this Connor was happy…

Who was she to question the results?

Solas and Sera went to go put on their servant's garbs, the archer was still grumbling, but the thought of doing something horrible to Alexius would keep her in line, at least Ana hoped that it would. Cassandra began dispatching their agents, and to fetch Dorian, likely still dozing in his tent.

The Herald was supposed to meet the Magister shortly after the afternoon meal, by then Cassandra and the troops should already be prepared to breach the castle. How they intended to do that with a simple ring she did not know. She would ask Cassandra about that later, provided they both survived. Some might thing that though maudlin, but she saw it as realistic.

Meddling in the affairs of a cultist magister was not the wisest thing she had ever done, but it was necessary to the cause.

Once again she would have to put her faith in Leliana.

The herald sighed, and checked her weapons; if things went bad in the castle she would need them.

She took a deep cleansing breath, whatever happened, in the next few hours, it would all be over.

Hopefully everything would go to plan.

If not…she would probably not be around to care.

IOI

Once again Ana entered the village of Redcliffe, she took the Castle road right up to the gates of the great fortress, Tevinters, clad in white and black robes and black draconic looking masks escorted her inside.

Her two "servants" followed along behind her. The Tevinter's had tried to deny them entrance, but Ana refused to go any farther without her retainers, she reminded the men that she was expected, and a guest of the Magister. It would not be wise for them to keep him waiting. In the end, the Tevinters had acquiesced to her demands. Solas kept his eyes downcast, pretending to be afraid to meet his better's eyes. Sera swaggered like Rivaini pirate.

Ana was not surprised, she had hoped that the archer would mind herself until the rest of the soldiers arrived, but apparently that was not so.

Oh well, she thought, hopefully the girl would not do something that would get them all killed.

The guards led them to the Castle's great hall. Magister Alexius sat in the Arl's throne. Fiona stood off to his left, her eyes downcast, like a good servant should be. Felix stood to his father's right, he met Ana's eyes; she could see the question there.

She was not sure how best to respond so she simply nodded in greetings. Hopefully, the young mage would get the point.

"My Lord Magister," Alexius' retainer announced, "Lady Trevelyan, agent of the Inquisition."

Alexius grinned and rose from his throne.

"Welcome my friend," he purred, "I'm pleased to see you here, we have much to discuss."

Ana smiled and curtseyed, letting her noble training come to the forefront.

"You honor us with your invitation," she said respectfully, "Hopefully, what happens here today will foster a new age of cooperation between the mages and the Inquisition."

Alexius chuckled.

"We shall see Milady, we shall see."

Fiona glanced up the Magister.

"Are we to have no say in these negotiations?"

The magister gave her an understanding smile.

"You have trusted me to defend your people," he reminded her, "Hopefully you can continue to remember that I have their best interest at heart."

Fiona sighed, but said nothing more.

Ana felt a little sorry for her, despite her choices up to this point.

She gave the former Grand Enchanter a gentle nod.

"If the Grand Enchanter wishes to have a voice in these proceedings, I have no objections," she said, "She shall remain among us as a guest of the Inquisition, for the good of her people of course."

Fiona's face brightened at that announcement.

"I…I thank you."

Ana smiled.

"Think nothing of it."

Alexius cleared his throat.

"If we have all that settled, perhaps we can proceed with these negotiations, Lady Trevelyan. You need mages to help close the breach, and I have them."

The Tevinter grinned.

"The only question remains what do you have to offer?"

The herald smiled at that.

"To start, I have a question for you, your lordship."

"Oh?" Alexius chuckled, "And what is that?"

Ana grinned, she was eager to see the man's reaction.

"Let's talk about the Venatori, Magister," she said confidently, "I'm sure you have much to tell us about them."

For a brief moment Alexius' smile faltered.

He briefly glared at her, and her friends.

"Now," he said coldly, "Where did you hear that name I wonder."

He did not have to speculate long.

Felix took a step forward.

"I told her father," he confessed.

"The magister gave his son a surprised look.

"Felix," he demanded, "what have you done?!"

"Only what was necessary father, I hope you will do the same."

Ana gave the young man an understanding look, she sympathized what Felix was trying to do, whether his father liked it or not.

"Felix is worried about you ser. He wishes to see that your connection to these…Venatori do not spell your doom."

All sense of warmth left Alexius' face; it was replaced by cold ruthless fury.

"You think to turn my son against me," he growled, "Thief…pretender, you walk in here with your stolen mark, with no true grasp of the power you wield, and you think you can simply steal from me!"

Felix gave the older man a worried look.

"Father…don't."

If the magister heard him, he did not acknowledge it.

"This is **not **the way it was **supposed** to be," he snarled, "**You** stole our moment of triumph, and you **will** answer for it."

Ana's eyes narrowed. It was not hard for her to put the facts of what Alexius was saying together.

"What **was** supposed to happen?" she asked.

The Magister shook his head.

"The Conclave was supposed to be the Elder One's greatest triumph. We were going to change the face of the world! The Imperium…our **glorious** Imperium would have been restored; a new god is rising, girl. We were going to rule this world again, from the highest peak to the darkest sea…"

He glared pure venom at her.

"And then you interfered…a mere slip of a girl cheated us of our absolute victory!"

Fiona's eyes widened in horror, horror that quickly turned to fury, the elf glared at the magister.

"You…I…I will not you drag my people into this!"

Ana crossed her arms. She tried not to smile as the Grand Enchanter drifted to her side.

"That sounds like a confession to me," she said, "I hope you are ready to deal with the consequences, Alexius."

The magister laughed, it was tinged with madness.

Felix stepped between the two.

"Father! Stop this now! Forget the Venatori, let the southern mages help heal the breach and lets return home."

The older man gave him a sad look.

"You will die if I don't do this," he sighed, "The Elder One is powerful. He has promised to aid you."

His eyes returned to Ana.

"All I have to do is make sure this little Marcher bitch, **never **interfered in **our **plans."

"Father, don't do this, can't you not hear what you sound like?"

It was at that moment that Dorian stepped out of the shadows.

"He sounds like every bad cliché that the people of Thedas accuse us of being," the Tevinter mage said crossing his arms.

Alexius glared at his former apprentice.

"Dorian," he hissed.

"Alexius," Dorian sighed, "This is not the way. Maker save us, this was exactly the type of thing we did not want to see happen. You can stop this. We can stop this before it is too late."

Alexius laughed again.

"It is already too late," he replied, "Venatori; seize the thief in the Elder one's name."

None of the guards advanced.

Alexius' eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Venatori?"

The sound of blades and gasps filled the chamber, Inquisition soldiers and scouts stepped out of the shadows. They sliced the throats of the cultists, or broke their necks before they had a chance to respond. Two approached Sera and Solas, restoring their weapons to them.

Sera grinned as she drew an arrow from her quiver.

"Hey you noble tit," she called out, "Just say what."

Alexius glared silently at her.

"Smarter than he looks," the elf giggled.

It was then that Cassandra emerged; she held her sword and shield at the ready. When she spoke it was with the full authority of the Divine's right hand.

"Magister Gereon Alexius, you stand accused of conspiracy and murder," she proclaimed, "We, the soldiers of the Inquisition, place you under arrest for the assassination of our Most Holy, Divine Justinia V."

Ana drew her sword.

"Don't resist Alexius; this does not have to get any worse."

"Sure it does," Sera grinned, still hoping to put an arrow through the Magister's face.

Alexius did not panic, fury flashed in his dark eyes.

"**You fools! You stupid fools!"**

He glared at Ana.

"Thief, pretender, you should not have been there. You should not even exist!"

He drew an amulet from his robes.

"**I'll make sure you **_**never**_** existed!"**

Magic pulsed towards the Herald of Andraste, the air swirled with black power.

"NO!"

Dorian threw himself in front of her; he fired a mystic bolt at the amulet. The Magister gasped.

The spell whirled out of control!

Ana screamed, at least she thought she did.

The world spun away.

Everything was pain and fel fire.

Then…

Nothing.

IOI

Cassandra blinked the magic had knocked her down; she sprang to her feet ready to fight.

She glanced around the chamber, the rest of their soldiers were rising but…

The Seeker gasped.

Ana…she looked where Ana had been standing; Dorian had tried to push her away, but…

She blinked.

She saw no sign of the mage or their Herald. They had vanished into the Magister's spell!

They were gone.

**Ana was gone!**

**A/N: Bit of a long chapter, but I had a lot to say, I would like to give thanks to all the new people following this, it is even more motivation for me to keep going. Next chapter up soon, see you all there!"**

**DG**


	20. A Nightmare called Tomorrow

**Chapter 20: A Nightmare called Tomorrow**

"Are you all right, my lady?"

Ana coughed, and wiped her mouth, once again feeling like a complete an utter idiot. She found herself more than envious of Dorian. They had been flung by Alexius into one of the rifts, yet he remained calm, his manner cheery, almost to the point of jovial.

She had no sooner emerged from the portal, and found herself vomiting while she was kneeling in thigh deep water.

_Not one of her grander moments to be certain._

Not that anyone would blame her mind you, Alexius' spell had been a fairly rough ride. She had felt like she was not just falling but spinning as well, burning hot and icy cold temperatures pounded like hammers on her body. That and a sensation akin to a lightning bolt sizzling down her throat.

They were thrown out of the maelstrom and found two Venatori guards standing in front of them. Both of them were so shocked, it was likely the only thing that saved Ana and Dorian's lives. Despite the fact that her stomach was turning over and her head swimming, she was able to get up her blade and behead one of the men before he even had a chance to respond. Dorian took care of the other, freezing him in place then shattering him with his staff.

"Fascinating," the mage purred, "I'm sure it was not what Alexius intended, but…"

"URGHHHHKKK!"

That is when Ana threw up.

After the spell, after the trip and the stench of this place, who could blame her for losing her breakfast all over the dungeon floor? For that is where they were, the cells, the stocks, and chains on the wall. It was clear that they had not landed in some tavern or nice inn…

No, they found themselves in the bowels of Redcliffe Castle; at least they _assumed_ that they were still in Redcliffe. Dorian said it looked familiar, he had passed through here with the Inquisition soldiers, it had not been flooded of course, and there had been many tacky statues and tapestries of dogs, but…

At least things had not been falling apart; at least red lyrium had not been growing out of the walls, and corpses left to rot where they had fallen, many torn apart and…

The herald shook her head, trying to piece together what had happened. They had been in the great hall…then…

The mage brightened, despite the darkness around them, he thought he knew what had happened here!

_It was __**not **__a matter of how or where, but of __**when.**_

Apparently, Alexius had somehow managed to toss them out of the world and into time itself.

He was not exactly sure how they had gotten here, but he thought that maybe…just maybe there was a way they could get back.

Ana hoped against hope that the Tevinter mage was right, he at least sounded like he knew what he was talking about.

He tried to explain it to her, magical foci, the nearest nexus of arcane energy, magical yield from the rift itself. The words made no sense to her; all that she could understand was that the magister tried to attack herm to erase her presence from the Temple of Sacred Ashes and possibly more.

Dorian suspected that his former master had desired to erase her from time completely!

The thought alone was terrifying!

She…she felt like someone had just walked over her own ashes! That she was already dead.

Had Alexius succeeded, she likely would **never** have even been **born**! Perhaps she would have died as the time of her birth, perhaps her father would never had been with her mother the night she had been conceived, perhaps he would have been tired, or her mother not had another glass of wine.

When he countered the Magister's magic with his own, the spell had gone awry, and so they were here. Perhaps finding himself surrounded by Inquisition soldiers had made his old master careless, he opened the portal before he was ready. Dorian suspected that they were likely the only ones who had been pulled through, Alexius would not have risked losing Felix to the spell, no…

"Does all this make sense to you, Milady?" he asked.

She couldn't respond, not with words anyway…

She whimpered softly.

Seeing her, hearing that, it made the mage's jovial expression fade somewhat, he helped her to her feet, forced her to look into his eyes, his strong eyes…

They were calming; they helped her find her center, her strength.

"Don't worry," he cooed, "I'll protect you."

The words helped, three little words, but larger than anything else right now.

_I'll protect you._

Ana Trevelyan was no damsel in distress, she never had been, but that did not mean that she did not appreciate a strong man at her side, promising to add his strength to hers.

_Dorian claimed to have worked with Alexius on his time magic, if anyone could find a way to get them back home it was likely him. If she had to be stuck in some unknown timeline, she could have had a worse companion, one who knew nothing about what was going on._

She took a deep breath.

_They were still alive. They were not sure exactly where they were, or when, but if the Venatori were here it was likely not long after the cultists first arrived in Redcliffe, or perhaps after…_

Ana sighed.

"Dorian?" she said in small voice.

"Yes?" he replied.

She frowned.

"What if we **can't **get back?"

The mage frowned.

"Then we had best get comfortable in our new present," he replied.

It was all she could do to stifle another whimper.

_Stop it,_ her pride chided; _a Trevelyan does not act like some whipped cur!_

_They endure._

Modest in temper, bold in deed, those were their words, words she had learned on her father's knee.

She would not disappoint her Papa!

She mustered her courage and straightened her spine.

She was still a Trevelyan.

It was time to be bold!

IOI

They made their way through Redcliffe Castle, or rather the ruins of what had been Redcliffe Castle.

What they saw here, it was disturbing beyond belief!

The great fortress was falling apart. Doors barred or simply collapsed, great shards of red lyrium punching up through the ground. Demons and Venatori prowled the halls. Fade rifts seemed to open almost at random, spewing more demons to block their path.

Ana engaged them all, she struck swiftly and without mercy, now that they had a plan, she felt a little better. If the Venatori were here, then Alexius likely was as well, if he was, he likely still had the amulet he used to bring them here.

They needed to find him, and then…it.

For the herald, the demons were easy; she had gotten very proficient as killing the denizens of the fade. The Venatori, some of the Venatori, were harder. One of the mages they encountered lost his hood during the fight; Ana was shocked when she realized she knew the man. She had met him during her first trip to Redcliffe. Hanley she thought his name was. He had begged her to find way to get the mages out of their deal with the Tevinters…

Now…he was one of them.

He died wailing that the Elder One would kill them for this, that they would die slowly and in agony!

A blade to the throat ended the man's ranting, but it did not stop the echo that still rang in her ears.

Dorian, despite his jovial sarcasm seemed to become grimmer the more they saw.

"Damn it Alexius," he growled under his breath, "What have you done?"

Ana said nothing, but she did not need to.

She wondered the exact same thing.

What had the arrogant bastard done?!

They needed to find out!

They fought their way into yet another cellblock, there were no guards down here, and the red lyrium was thicker here. Great shards of the stuff filling the cells, the bones near broken doors seemed to glow eerily with crimson light.

"You…you're alive?!"

The voice was weak, and tinged with an unnatural ring. Ana looked into the cell that it emerged from and gasped.

"Grand…Grand Enchanter Fiona?!"

The elven mage gave her a pained look.

"What…what is left of me…child," the mage whimpered.

She was pinned to the very wall, red lyrium almost encased her. She was pale; her skin shiny with fever, only her head, shoulders and arms remained free.

The mage sighed.

"I…I saw you die," she whimpered.

"We did not die," Dorian said stepping up beside Ana, "Alexius threw us through time. Grand Enchanter, we need to know the date! How far have we come?"

The elf gasped, as if it was hard for her to speak, to even gather her thoughts.

"Harvestmere,"she moaned, "9:42…Dragon."

Both Ana and Dorian's mouths fell open.

"9:42?!" he gasped, "We missed almost a year!"

Ana winced.

"It must have really been a bad year," she quipped, but there was no humor in her words, it was gallows humor at best, something to keep the herald sane. Nothing was funny here, not standing in front of Fiona seeing what Alexius had done to her.

She approached the bars.

"We have to get you out of here," she told Fiona.

The mage smiled weakly.

"Too late…for me…child," she coughed, "red lyrium…is an infection, when you are around it…long enough, it…it starts growing out of you, then…then they mine your corpse for more."

Ana felt ill; she remembered the shards of the stuff at the Temple of Sacred Ashes…

"Beware…the Elder One," Fiona coughed, "Here…here he is more powerful…then the Maker."

"I may be able to stop this," Dorian promised her, "If we can find Alexius, I may be able to take the herald back in time, stop this from ever happening!"

Fiona gave a shuddering breath.

"Good."

Dorian winced.

"I said…may be."

"You…you will need…help," Fiona shuddered, she looked at Ana.

"Your spymaster…Leliana…she is here, she will aid…you," the elf fell into a fit of coughs.

Ana paled at the sight, seeing such a strong woman…reduced to this!

The herald's eyes narrowed.

Fear turned to fury!

_I should have killed the bastard in the throne room;_ she thought coldly, _He should be lying in a puddle of his own blood!_

That would have been better, better than him doing this to people, to corrupting the mages here!

Dorian took her hand.

"There is nothing more we can do for her," he said softly, "We must find your spymaster."

Ana winced.

"We have to help her," she said giving Fiona a pitying look.

"We can," he promised, "Just not here, not now."

She nodded.

Yes, he was right, here Fiona was already lost, but in the past…

Perhaps…perhaps there was still hope.

IOI

The search for Leliana was not fruitless; it seemed that the spymaster was not the only ally they would find here.

As they explored the dungeons of Redcliffe they came across several old friends.

Cassandra was sitting in her cell lost in quiet prayer, asking for the Maker to take her into his arms. She had been surprised to see Ana again, thinking that her time had come, that the Maker had sent the Herald for her.

Ana had no trouble convincing the Seeker to come with them.

Solas seemed intrigued when he saw her again. Despite the signs of red lyrium infection, he remained the curious man she had always known. He seemed to take comfort from Dorian's plan, one who had explored the fade, did not find the idea of time travel that hard to grasp.

Sera was terrified.

"No. No. No," the archer whimpered, "You're dead, dead don't come back! You…you're likely a demon or some such shite like that!"

"Oh for the love of…no one is dead," Dorian growled, "We were flung forward in time. We are trying to get back to our present, if we do, then none of this will have happened."

"Magic," Sera whimpered, pulling her legs to her chest, and rocking like a small child.

"I hate magic."

"We're going after Alexius," Ana said coldly, she broke the door to the archer's cell, and tossed in a bow and quiver she had taken off a Venatori guard.

'You want to see him pay for what he has done, then come with us."

The elf looked at the weapons, her ears lowering like an angry cat's.

She scooped them up stood, a cold glare in her lyrium infected eyes.

"The day you died," she told Ana, "I ran out of arrows, so many of them," the elf whimpered, "I…I want them to hurt!"

Ana nodded.

That made two of them.

Having allies made the search a little easier. The Venatori did not seem to be able to stand against enemies that fought back, perhaps in their victory they had grown soft, or…

Perhaps this world had taken its toll on them too.

Cassandra had described a nightmare world to Ana and Dorian.

After the Herald of Andraste had died, fade rifts tore apart southern Thedas. Then…the Venatori assassinated Empress Celene of Orlais, and everything fell apart. The Inquisition, the Ferelden army had broken against Alexius' forces in Redcliffe Castle.

Then…the demons had come.

The Venatori fielded a massive army, mages, Templars, abominations, cultist, and demons all fighting as allies. They swept over the south like an unholy flood.

The Elder One rose, he destroyed the chantries burned the cities, he had become a god, and no one could stop him, those that tried died agonizing deaths…

"They had been the lucky ones," Cassandra informed Ana.

"Demons, monsters, and god…things," Sera whimpered, "It isn't right Herald, it just **isn't** right!"

Ana clutched her sword.

Seeing her friends like this, so broken, dying from the effects of the Red Lyrium, it was…disheartening.

A black shadow began to fall over her soul.

The mark on her hand flared, responding to a nearby fade rift. She strode towards it. A door in front of them flung open, several mages in Venatori garb ran screaming into the hall.

They saw Ana and the others.

"Help us," one gasped, "Please."

Ana glared at him, this fool that had helped destroy the world.

"Of course," she purred.

She cut the man's head off.

His fellows screamed and tried to run the other way, right into the waiting arms of several terrors.

Two fell to their knees, trying to surrender to the herald.

"In the Elder One's name, please…"

She cut them down too.

She dealt quickly with the demons.

She went into the chamber and sealed the fade rift, a dying abomination lay on the floor before them, he whimpered impaled by a sword, his own apparently.

"No," he whimpered, as the last of the light faded from his eyes.

Ana shuddered.

The poor man, he had killed himself.

Dorian and Cassandra approached him.

The Seeker shook her head.

"I know this one; this was Connor Guerein," she said, "The former Arl of Redcliffe's son."

Dorian sighed.

"Brave lad," he said, "The demon had him, he…he did not want to turn."

Ana glared at the corpse.

"There is nothing we can do, come," she said coldly.

Her reaction surprised Dorian.

"Milady?"

"I said let's go," she snarled back, "There is nothing we can do for him here."

She marched down the hall, her eyes burning with tears she refused to let fall.

Her death had caused this. It was all her fault!

The Venatori had ruined the world because she had not been there!

She would see them all burn for that!

A cry of pain drew her attention, and the sound of raised voices.

"There is no Maker; the Elder One claimed all that was his!"

"That…that does not make him a god!"

The sound of a hard strike and a cry of pain!

Ana growled and approached, she recognized the second voice, and the cry.

She slowly carefully opened the door.

A large Venatori stood over a woman chained to the center of a room; he held a hot branding iron in hand.

Even despite the ruined state of her robes, Ana recognized Leliana, or rather, what was left of her.

Her skin was pale and pulled tight over her cheek bones, making her appearance more than skull-like, only wisps of her red hair remained her eyes were milky white, like the darkspawn that Ana had seen in Valammar.

The guard was so busy torturing the spymaster; he did not hear them enter.

"You will break" he spat in Leliana's face.

"I will die…first," she hissed.

"HEY," Ana called out.

The torturer whirled around.

Leliana leapt up.

She wrapped her legs around the man's neck, he struggled mightily, but the spymaster would not be denied. She squeezed tighter and tighter.

The sick sound of bones snapping heralded the man's death, he slumped to the ground.

Leliana glared down at him.

"Or you will," she sneered in triumph.

Ana was there quickly, taking the keys and shackling her old colleague.

"You are here," the wounded spymaster said.

"It is a long story," Ana answered, "We need to find Alexius."

Leliana nodded grimly.

"I know where he is," she said, "Do you have weapons?"

Ana nodded holding out a bow to her.

Leliana grinned eagerly and took it.

"Don't you want to know how we got here? What happened?"

"No," she replied.

"If we can reach Alexius," he added, "I think I can return the Herald and myself to the moment that Alexius sent us away. We can stop all this, Alexius, his Elder One, their victory, it will never have happened."

Leliana shook her head.

"And mages wonder why people fear them; no one should have that type of power."

"We can save everyone," Ana said, "This day will never come, we…"

She glared at the younger woman.

"Stop!"

"But…listen…"

"No, you listen," the former bard snarled, "You think this is all nothing, a future you can just erase like ripping out the page in a book, but it was real…for the world it was real. We suffered. I suffered. Everyone suffered!"

Leliana got up in the girl's face.

"Never forget this, herald," she hissed, "Never!"

She spun on her heel eager to be after Alexius, the man who had ruined the world, and handed it over to a monster that called himself a god.

Ana winced, yet another of her allies lost to this dark future.

Never forget this Herald, never!"

She sighed.

She wouldn't, she knew that now.

She never would.


	21. A Time for Dying

**Chapter 21: A Time for Dying**

The group continued to make its way through Castle Redcliffe. Occasionally, they would confront Venatori soldiers or mages, but for the most part the castle was clear…except for the demons of course, and the corpses.

An uncomfortable silence had fallen over the group, even Ana, who usually babbled when she was nervous held her tongue.

Seeing this place, the world the Elder One had made, what words fit to describe it? How could you downplay the destruction?

The answer was simple, you could not?

Dorian found himself walking next to Leliana, the Inquisition's spymaster pulled her hood up farther, not wishing to reveal her ruined features any more than they already were.

It was a bit of vanity perhaps, but it was all she had left. Leliana was no fool; she likely realized that she did not have much time left.

It was not something that most people wanted to think about.

"So," Dorian said jovially, "What has happened this last year?"

The spymaster's eyes narrowed.

"Don't," she growled.

"I'm just trying to gather information," he said with a dismissive shrug.

"No, you are talking to fill silence. You do not want to know what has happened here, no one would want to."

Ana winced at the coldness in the woman's voice, the dark simmering anger, she did not blame Leliana.

She was fighting the same emotions herself.

Dorian might have been trying to distract them, maybe even cheer them up, alas what cheer was left in this world?

The herald sighed.

If they could not get back, they had best find a way to get comfortable in their new present; Dorian had said those words…

Now they knew the truth.

This world **was** doomed, there was nothing left here to get comfortable with…

…they either made it back to 9:40, or they died.

There was no other option left to them.

"One final question, Milady," Dorian said to Leliana.

The bard gave a shuddering sigh, but nodded.

"What became of Felix?"

Leliana pursed her lips.

"You will see," she said coldly.

Dorian glared at her.

"You won't tell me?"

"It is better you see for yourself."

They finally stepped out into the castle courtyard. Leliana had not prepared Ana or Dorian for the sight that awaited them.

Both of their mouths fell open.

"**GREAT MAKER!"** Dorian exclaimed.

"**ANDRASTE'S ASS,"** Ana gasped.

"Yessss," Leliana murmured, "Now you understand."

Ana blinked in disbelief.

_The breach…it was __**everywhere!**_

No blue remained in the sky, only the sickening yellow-green light of the fade. Islands drifted overhead, with demonic shapes moving across their surfaces. Ruined parts of Castle Redcliffe floated among them, lights and torches still burning in some of the windows. The hazy quality of the air left the herald a little lightheaded, the shine burned her eyes.

Behind her Sera whimpered.

"Don't look up. Don't look up. Don't look up!" the elf murmured.

Finally, she sobbed.

"Ohhh shit," she groaned, "I **looked** up."

"The veil is no more," Solas said shaking his head; "The Fade and Thedas are now one."

"The Elder One and his Venatori are responsible of this," Cassandra growled dangerously.

Ana could only shake her head.

This…this is what the Venatori had planned for Thedas!? It made no sense. It was horrible! It was insane, madness!

What kind of being was this Elder One?

What kind of monster would want to do this to the world?!

The air split with yellow green light.

Fade rifts opened before them.

Ana growled and drew her sword.

This…this was at least something she could do something about.

The mark on her hand flared as she led the others into battle. They struck down demons without mercy, pushing towards the great hall of the castle.

They had found a note in the lower levels, saying that Magister Alexius had sealed himself within, seeing no one but his advisors, and even then only when they were all together, or to be brought his meals.

It seemed that Alexius was not happy with the results of work here. Perhaps the Elder One did not reward him the way he thought he would?

Not that it mattered, not the others, and not to Ana and Dorian.

_All that mattered now was getting back to the past…or the present…or whatever!_

_All that mattered was getting out of here, making sure that this world never came to pass._

It was the thought that drove Ana forward, that and her anger at Alexius, the Venatori, and this Elder One.

Was trying to become a god worth all this, this…destruction?!

She would have her answers…

…One way…or the other.

IOI

They reached the entrance to the great hall, but once again hit a snag.

A great barrier door had been placed in the entryway, a door that could only be opened by keys fashioned from lyrium shards.

The realization sent the group hunting Venatori through the rest of the royal wing. The chapel, the library, as well as the guards sleeping quarters, here was the largest concentration of the cultists. Here the remaining Venatori clung to what remained of their lives.

Dorian shook his head in disdain.

"It seems that this…Elder One is not interested in saving his followers."

Ana rolled her eyes.

That was an understatement.

What kind of...man even considered trying to become a god? What thoughts came to him in his dreams, and once those dreams had been achieved…what would the affairs of his lessers matter to him?

These were thoughts that were beyond a girl named Ana Trevelyan.

The only example of such arrogance was described in the Chant of Light, the Magisters that breached the golden city, the betrayers…

…The first darkspawn.

It was **their** sin that first made the Maker turn away from man. Did they feel remorse for what they had done? Had they died realizing that the price of their prize was far too high?

Alas, there was no answer to that question.

Those men were long dead.

Slowly, they managed to find the shards they needed to open the door to the great hall, it was a nasty fight. The Venatori threw themselves at the herald and her allies like wild dogs. Ana's armor had been breached in several places, an arrow whizzed by her face, grazing her left cheek, blood ran like water from the deep wound.

Dorian and Solas did what they could to stop the bleeding, magic worked wonders, but even it was not perfect.

"It will leave a scar, Ana," Solas warned.

She laughed fatalistically.

"If we fail, we probably won't live long enough for it to matter Solas."

The elf sighed sadly.

He no doubt saw the truth in her words.

The group returned to the main hall, they stood before the barrier door, the last obstacle between them and their prey.

Ana placed the shards where Dorian showed her, magic flared from the runes built into it.

The door creaked open.

Ana raised her sword and shield, expecting another wave of bodyguards, or perhaps demons, surely Alexius had to know they were here.

Surely, he would be prepared.

They stepped into the darkened chamber; few braziers still burned here, only the great hearth behind the throne room showed any sign of life. Alexius stood with his back to them, his hands behind his back.

He did not even bother to turn and face them.

"So you are here," he chuckled mirthlessly, "I knew you would be here eventually, not now perhaps, but…eventually."

He sighed heavily.

"My last failure."

Ana glared at him, the man that had tortured her friends, and helped turn the world into a fel pit worse than the void.

"No guards, Alexius," she spat, "No trap, I think I feel a bit insulted."

He chuckled mirthlessly.

"There is no more point, herald," he said, "The Elder One is coming, for me, you, and everyone else."

The magister shook his head.

"There is nothing left to do, all we can do now…is wait for the end."

Dorian glared at his former master.

"Was it worth it," he demanded, "All this, was it worth what you have done?!"

Alexius lowered his head.

"The Elder One wanted the Bitch of Ostwick erased, but…but I could not do it! I could not go back before the breach. I tried, Dorian, I tried so many times, so many possible timelines, but…nothing. The breach makes the magic work you see. I cannot go back beyond what was done to create it!"

Ana glared at him, his self-pity made her ill, he played the victim after doing all of this.

"This Bitch of Ostwick," she growled, "Has grown tired of ranting, you bastard!"

Alexius shook his head.

"He said you were a mistake, yet it is one that I cannot undo, now all I can hope for is to die for my failure, perhaps my death will appease the Elder One and spare my son's life."

It was with those words that a shadow near the base of Alexius's throne moved, it moved to the Magister's side, a misshapen thing dressed in golden garb.

Alexius touched his face pushing back the hood.

Even Cassandra was taken aback.

It was another ghoul, but different, no black sores covered the pale skin, the hair was long gone, sharpened teeth cut into black bloody lips, white milky eyes stared at Alexius like a loyal dog might regard his master.

Alexius shook his head.

"My son," he purred, "my Felix."

Ana's eyes widened.

_That __**was**__ Felix! _

"FELIX!" Dorian snarled, "DAMN YOU ALEXIUS! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

"He would have **died **Dorian," the Magister snapped back, "I **saved** him!"

Ana felt her temper starting to rise; a red haze ringed her vision!

_The Bastard!_

_He __**needed **__to pay!_

Alexius gasped.

He had been so occupied with Dorian and Ana that he had not seen Leliana sneak up behind him, she pulled the ghoul that had once been Felix Alexius to his feet.

She pressed a dagger to his throat. The ghoul blinked, clearly not even capable of understanding what was happening to it.

The same could not be said for the Magister.

"FELIX! NO!" Alexius gasped, "LET HIM GO! PLEASE!"

Leliana grinned savagely, she pressed the blade tighter.

The Magister whimpered.

"Please don't hurt my son!"

"The amulet Alexius," Dorian demanded, "Give it to us! We can stop all this from happening!"

"Yes," the magister gasped, "Anything, I will give you anything you desire!"

He fell to his knees, his eyes pleading with Leliana.

"Please don't hurt him; I will give you anything you want!"

She glared coldly at him.

"I want the world back," she hissed.

She ran the blade across the ghoul's throat. Tainted blood sprayed in Alexius' face, as Felix fell to the ground before him.

The Magister wailed.

"FELIX!"

He rose roaring with grief and fury!

Fade rifts tore open all around the chamber, demons began to pour in.

Ana lunged at the magister, a staff appeared in his hands.

"FELIX!" he wailed, "FELIX!"

Alexius was beyond reason now, and so was Ana.

"BASTARD," she shouted.

She fought hard, pushing him back into the hearth; a kick sent him back into the flames his robes caught fire.

He blasted her back with a spell. Cassandra was upon him then, her Seeker training protecting her from the worst of his magic, draining away his mana.

Alexius did not seem to care; he had nothing left in this world now.

He lashed out at those he blamed for his loss.

Ana rolled to her feet, she was about to attack Alexius again, but Dorian stopped her, pointing at the rifts and the sea of demons starting to flow into the chamber.

The herald knew her duty, and what would help save them.

She went after the rifts.

Sera, Solas, and Dorian aided her while Cassandra attempted to bring down the maddened magister. Occasionally Alexius would throw fire or ice at Ana, but his attacks were losing their punch the longer the fight raged.

Leliana peppered his shields with arrows, keeping the magister off balance.

A demon surged toward Alexius; maybe it sought to possess him, to offer him strength to fight on.

Ana threw her dagger into its back; it collapsed, as it was pulled back into the rift.

She raised her hand, the mark flaring as it sealed the opening, preventing any more of the foul things from crossing over.

Her eyes once again fell on Alexius, burned and battered, the Magister fought with insane determination, trying to avenge the death of his son.

He gestured at Leliana, likely to catch her in some new poisonous spell.

He never got the chance to cast it.

Ana shoved her blade through his failing shield, and deep into the Magister's back.

He gasped, staring up into the herald's cold blue eyes. Tears ran down his cheeks.

"Felix," he sighed, "I…I'm sorr…"

Ana kicked him off her blade, and into Cassandra's.

The Seeker took Alexius' head; his body skidded across the floor.

Silence returned to the chamber.

Dorian stood before the bodies of his mentor and friend.

The Tevinter mage shook his head.

"I…I think he wanted to die," he murmured, "All the lies he told himself, all the excuses, and sacrifices."

Dorian shook his head.

"He lost Felix long ago; he was just too blind to see it."

Ana was panting, part of her felt sorry for Dorian, but the cold angry part of her felt only disdain.

Alexius had gotten what he deserved.

"Does he have the amulet?" she demanded.

Dorian searched the body, finding what he was looking for quickly in the late Magister's belt.

Despite the death around them, he actually managed to smile.

"Yes," he said, "this is it, I…I should be able to return us to our own time, I…I can feel the magic, the intricacies of the spell."

He grinned at the herald.

"Give me an hour, and I can get us home."

Leliana rounded on him.

"An hour? **AN HOUR!?** You do not have that kind of time! You must go now! You must…"

The very castle shook around them; a distant roar filled their ears, and made them shudder to their very souls.

Leliana whimpered.

"The Elder One," she murmured, "He is coming."

Ana spun on Dorian.

Get to work, quickly, we don't have much time."

He chuckled nervously.

"Funny considering that this is time magic," he said, "We should have all the time in the world."

The silent glares of his companions silenced him.

He kneeled before the amulet, summoning the necessary energy.

Leliana looked at Solas, Sera, and Cassandra, their faces sweaty with sickness, their eyes ringed with red light as the red lyrium continued to eat away at their bodies, but…they all nodded.

They knew what needed to be done.

They headed for the door.

"We will try to buy you as much time as you need, mage," Cassandra said.

"Yeah," Sera added, "So don't waste it you gits!"

"No," Ana cried, "I won't let you die for me!"

Leliana gave her a sad smile.

"Look at us; herald," she said gesturing, "We are **already** dead. The only way to save us is to make sure this day never comes. Make sure the Elder One never rises."

The herald whimpered.

"Cassandra, Solas…I…I'm sorry."

The Seeker said nothing; she joined Sera outside the room. Solas gave her that tiny contented smile she knew so well from their talks.

"Do not be sorry Ana," he said, "Be brave and make what we do here matter."

The herald nodded.

She…she could do that.

Leliana removed the shards from the locks and closed the door, sealing them inside.

Ana took one last look at her friends, hating herself for this sacrifice, and the fact that she had not prevented their suffering.

They had to make it back, they just had to!

She would not let them die in vain!

Leliana remained behind; she took up position near the door, gathering up her arrows.

She gave Ana a brave look.

"You shall have as long as I have arrows," she promised.

Ana nodded.

She hoped that it would be long enough.

IOI

Dorian worked his spells while Ana stood impatiently beside him, Leliana said nothing her focus entirely on the door before them. Even through the heavy stone they could hear the fighting outside, the room shook as the Elder One roared in the distance.

Ana began to pace, but she did nothing to interrupt Dorian. The mage's eyes were closed as he chanted over the amulet, magic swirled around the glyph in which he stood.

She was trying to remain calm but it was not easy, it…

The door to the hall shuddered and cracked. Something struck it hard, once, twice, three times.

Leliana raised her bow.

"Though I am surrounded by darkness," the spymaster whispered, "I am shielded by flame!"

The door shattered inward, Cassandra's broken body was flung against one of the stone pillars. A greater terror dragged Solas like a rag doll, his arms and legs bent at impossible angles.

Something rolled passed Ana's feet, something with short blond hair.

She tried not to think about what it was.

Venatori soldiers and demons filled the entry way, Leliana fired into them, each shot a kill.

"Andraste guide me," Leliana called out.

She fired again, killing the demon that had taken Solas.

"Maker," she called out defiantly, "Take me to your side."

She fired again and again.

An arrow struck her in the shoulder; the spymaster staggered but did not fall.

A soldier reached her; she stabbed him in the eye with one of her arrows. She flipped over his fallen body and snapped the neck of a Venatori archer.

She drew a short sword and met then blade upon blade.

Ana tried to rush to her side, to save her friend, she just couldn't leave….

Dorian stopped her.

"YOU MOVE," he shouted, "WE ALL DIE!"

The herald froze in place.

Another arrow struck Leliana; she staggered and fell to her knees. A Venatori warrior grabbed her and spun her around.

She shoved her head back, breaking his nose, but it was clear that her strength was fading.

It would not be long now.

She cried out defiantly, trying to keep all attention on herself.

Demons and Venatori swarmed her.

Dorian gestured, and the air before himself and Ana began to swirl in a familiar pattern, slowly the portal that brought them here began to take shape.

Ana stared impotently as a terror ripped into Leliana with its claws, still the bard fought and clawed, she was dead, but she would not be alone in death.

The sight broke Ana's heart.

_She…she could do nothing…nothing._

_She had failed them._

_She had failed everyone._

Dorian grabbed her arm.

"GO!" he shouted.

Ana leapt into the portal as the first of the demons tried to reach her, its surface flashed, blinding her.

The world spun, hot and cold buffeted her again.

Her stomach turned, but there was nothing she could.

She could only hope they would reach their own time safely.

…And when she saw Alexius again…well.

_For putting me through this you bastard,_ she thought_, I'm going to throw up all over you._

It would be a petty revenge perhaps, but it was something.

It gave her hope.

**A/N: My darkest chapter for this story so far, I want to say hi to all those new followers out there, you guys are **_**great!**_** Next time back to the present, and Ana meets a childhood crush, be there.**

**DG**


	22. Protectors or Jailors

**Chapter 22: Protectors or Jailors**

"**WHAT DID YOU DO, MAGE!"**

Cassandra Pentaghast had Alexius pinned in his throne, her blade on his throat and fire in her eyes.

One moment the herald had been confronting the magister, and he had been ranting about his leader, this…Elder One, and the next, Ana and the mage Dorian were gone…just gone.

She was determined to have her answers.

"What have you done with the Herald," she demanded, "Tell me or you will not escape this room alive!"

Alexius did not hear her; he whimpered the amulet lay on the floor out of his reach.

The magister was almost in tears.

"Failed," he whimpered, "I've failed, she **will** be back. He will punish us, no; there must be some way to fix this. We can still win."

The Seeker was ready to strike the mage, he was babbling, incoherent, what did he mean that Ana would be back? He would tell her.

He would tell her everything. She…

The air crackled, magic filled the chamber once again. Cassandra spun away from Alexius raising her sword, the swirling magic that had taken Ana was back.

It would not have the rest of them so easily; she would make sure of that.

Alexius was on his feet, he almost whimpered at the sight.

"Impossible," he gasped, "It can't be…no, no, no, no!"

The room flashed brightly with white light as the magic faded.

The Herald of Andraste stood before them once again. Ana looked beaten and bloodied, like she had been through a war. A partially healed gash marked her left cheek, leaking a small amount of blood.

She was glaring daggers at Alexius.

At her side, Dorian of House Pavus, dusted himself off, he looked as bad as Ana did, but he had been restored to his old cheery self.

He grinned triumphantly at his former master.

"You will have to do better than that," he exclaimed.

Ana walked up to Alexius, the color draining from his face, either in disbelief, or in fear at the anger in her eyes.

"Magister Alexius," she purred, "I have a gift for you from the people of 9:42 Dragon."

She punched him in the face, his jaw clicked from the impact; he fell hard to the stone floor.

Ana was above him in seconds, the tip of her blade against his throat.

"You bastard," she spat, "Do you realize what you have done? What you will do? All those people, our entire world…"

He raised his hands in surrender, but Ana seemed to be having none of it.

Cassandra said nothing, she was in shock.

This was not the Ana she knew, she had never seen her so angry.

"Ana stop," Solas called out, "He is beaten, there is no more reason for this."

The herald glanced up at him, shame and anger warred in her eyes.

"You were all dead because of him, him and his Elder One."

She looked down at Alexius, the beaten look on his face.

"I've seen you die once today Alexius," she growled, "I'm tempted to see it again after what you did, what you would have done."

"You have won," he almost sobbed, "There is no point in continuing this charade."

Cassandra's eyes widened, the mage was beaten, yet Ana did not relent.

The Seeker did nothing. She said nothing. She did not know what had happened, but it was clear that Ana felt this was justified.

She was willing to let it all play out.

"Milady, stop, please," Dorian said, "There is no more reason for this."

"Yes Herald, stop," Felix said, "He is my Father; please…there is no more need for violence!"

IOI

Ana looked up at Felix, but she only saw the ghoul they had left back in 9:42. She could not bring herself to look at her friends, knowing what they had given up for her, what they had sacrificed so she could get back here.

She glared down at Alexius.

She wanted to avenge them, all the lives lost in that dark future, all lost to Alexius and his Elder One.

They did not understand, even Dorian, and he had seen the same thing she had.

Her loss had begun that dark future, everything had been her fault. She needed to make the right choice now, protect the world.

_She was the only one that could._

Alexius had deserved to die in that future; this one had not gone that far yet, but…but…

_Did the dead not deserve vengeance?_

It would be so easy, just one quick thrust and the Maker's justice would be done.

Was she not the Herald of Andraste? If she was, if Andraste had sent her here to bring order…she…she…

Ana's eyes widened.

_What was she doing?_

She swallowed hard.

She is…**was** a good person, at least she thought she was.

_This…this would not be justice, it would be murder._

Master Geoffrey would not approve of this. He was a warrior; no warrior killed a man on his knees begging for his life.

She had no right to kill this man for things he had not done yet. The moment she started thinking that she had the right to decide what was right and just for everyone in Thedas…?

A shiver ran down her spine.

That way laid madness, tyranny; it would turn her into something worse than this Elder One. The Inquisition would follow her lead, all those that believed in her. They would follow where she led, how long would it be before she would hear no opinions but her own? How many would die if she decided her voice was the only one that mattered.

She would not turn into that. She would not turn the Inquisition into that, not over Alexius…

Not…over this.

She swallowed hard and removed her blade from his throat.

Both Dorian and Felix sighed with relief.

She glared down at the beaten Magister.

"You are going to tell us everything, Alexius," she growled, "The Venatori, the Elder One, his plans, everything."

She sheathed her blade.

"Part of me almost wants to let you go when all this is over, to let the Elder One deal with you for your failure here," she smiled grimly.

"I can't imagine that he is going to be pleased with you, he does not strike me as the forgiving type."

She stepped away letting Felix go to his father, help the man back up.

Father looked at son with broken eyes.

"Felix," he whimpered.

""It will be all right, Father," the young man promised.

Alexius whimpered.

"You will die."

"We all die, Father," he replied.

He took his father into his arms, Alexius sobbed like a scared child.

Ana could not help it. She still felt pity, pity for this man, her enemy, and pity for herself.

What was becoming, what was the Inquisition turning her into? She was not the same girl that had come to Haven with Uncle Randolph all those months ago.

_Back in Val Royeaux, Lizzy had called her a monster._

_Perhaps she was __**right.**_

The Inquisition troops took both Felix and Alexius into custody; both were to be taken to the dungeon for now. Felix would not be harmed, she would make sure of that, but his father would need to talk.

The Inquisition needed to know everything about the Venatori, about the Elder One, and his role in assassinating the Divine.

Alexius would give them that information.

Dorian clapped his hands merrily.

"Well, I'm glad that is over," he exclaimed.

The door to the main hall flung open, startling everyone.

Ferelden soldiers marched into the chamber, a full honor guard, wearing the royal colors of Ferelden.

Dorian winced.

"Or…not," he murmured, moving back behind the Inquisition soldiers.

Cassandra came up beside Ana.

"The Fereldans are early," the Seeker said, "We thought we at least had another day to finish up here."

Ana nodded.

That was the problem with time.

It did not always give you what you wanted.

IOI

The Inquisition soldiers did not resist the entry of the Ferelden army into Redcliffe that was not there purpose here. The soldiers quickly secured the castle while the Inquisition fell back to the village, just in case the mages decided to scatter, with Alexius' defeat, neither the Inquisition nor the Fereldans want to see the mage rebellion splinter into roving bands of apostates.

That would not benefit anyone.

The Herald and her allies remained in the great hall. Grand Enchanter Fiona stood at Ana's side her head lowered in shame.

Ana tried to give the woman a reassuring look, not that Fiona was in any shape to accept it, especially when Arl Teagan returned to Castle Redcliffe…

…with King Alistair at his side.

Ana found herself fighting down a childish giggle as the King strode into the chamber; all those childhood fantasies about the Hero of the Blight came rushing back.

She was trying hard not to smile.

_Maker, he is even more handsome in person, no wonder the Hero of Ferelden married him._

Of course the seriousness of the situation forced her back to reality; this was not simply a royal visit, a social call from the King of Ferelden.

He had come for First Enchanter Fiona, and he was **not** happy.

The elven mage refused to meet his gaze; she dropped to one knee with tears in her eyes.

"Grand Enchanter," he said coldly, "Imagine my surprise when I heard from my uncle that you had given Redcliffe Castle to a Magister of Tevinter."

His eyes narrowed with anger.

"Especially since Redcliffe and all its lands belong to Arl Teagan and not you…"

The mage winced.

"Your Majesty," she said, "Please let me explain…"

"I have no desire to hear your excuses, Grand Enchanter."

The elf winced as if struck. Ana's brow furrowed.

Fiona…this seemed more than her simply being ashamed of what she had done, more than simple fear of the King's punishment.

The King's words, they hurt her…badly.

Ana could not help but wonder why.

Alistair shook his head.

"I trusted you," he sighed, "Enchanter Wynne was a friend of mine, in her name I was willing to give you and your people the benefit of the doubt, and you…you did this…you betrayed us."

"I have no excuse, Your Majesty," Fiona replied, "If I am to be punished, so be it."

She looked up, her elven ears lowering in sorrow.

"I only ask for mercy for my people."

Alistair shook his head.

"That will no longer be my decision," he said, "Grand Enchanter, as King of Ferelden, I hereby banish you and your people from my lands, leave and do not return."

Fiona's eyes widened in panic, realizing what this meant. Leaving Ferelden, it would leave the surviving mages easy prey for bandits or people just seeking revenge. They were not welcome in the Free Marches, not after Kirkwall. Orlais was a war zone.

"Your Majesty," she gasped, "We…we have nowhere to go, we have children, injured, what she will do? Where shall we go?"

Ana stepped forward.

"Be careful," Cassandra warned.

"Your Majesty," Ana said.

The king centered his cool gaze upon her.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Be strong, she chided herself, be strong.

She took a deep breath.

Here we go.

"Your Majesty…ah…um…Ser…I am Ana, Agent of the Inquisition, my order came here to ask for the mages aid in helping us seal the breach. I…um…I know you have no reason to trust us on this…matter, but I…we…the Inquisition would be more than happy to take in the mages."

"Ugh," Sera spat, "After all that, throw them all out on their asses."

"Herald," Cassandra whispered, "We should discuss this, first."

Solas remained silent, that small smile on his face.

Did he realize what she was doing?

It was a big risk, but she had started this.

She needed to finish it.

Fiona rose, she looked at Ana suspiciously.

"And what are the terms you offer us for this…protection?"

Dorian snorted at that.

"Probably better than what you got from Alexius," he said.

Ana stood between the King and the First Enchanter, technically she had no authority to offer the mages anything, the war council still had to approve, but…

Alistair was clearly not in the mood to give them that time, not that she blamed him.

The herald sighed.

He was even more handsome angry, she thought.

She tried to ignore those thoughts, and turn her thoughts back to the business at hand.

She turned to the Grand Enchanter.

"The breach threatens us all. We need allies in sealing it."

"You could conscript the mages, herald," Cassandra offered, "They are in no position to object."

Fiona winced at that.

Ana considered that, conscripting the mages would likely put the Inquisition back on the same path the chantry had always walked, the mages were there charges, with no say in their lives except what the mothers decided was equitable.

That…was the old way, and the old way had led them to this, Templar and mage both believing they had no say in their lives, and that had only led to succession and death.

Would they be smarter this time, or perhaps it was time for something a little more drastic.

The Inquisition had been founded on drastic ideas, and as a Trevelyan…

_Bold in deed._

Ana smiled.

It was time to be bold, and have bold ideas.

She stretched out her hand to the First Enchanter.

"Grand Enchanter Fiona," she said, "On behalf of the Inquisition, I hereby offer the free mages a full alliance. Let us stand together, not as protectors or jailors, but as partners. Let us journey together to Haven and seal the breach."

Cassandra gasped.

Sera rolled her eyes.

Dorian coughed politely.

Solas nodded.

Fiona blinked, she…she had not expected this.

From the look on Alistair's face, neither had he.

"I would take her offer Grand Enchanter," the King said, "I doubt you will get a better one elsewhere."

Fiona looked down at Ana's hand, her ears twitched nervously.

"You would grant us our freedom?"

"It is not mine to grant," Ana said shaking her head, "Freedom is **not** free, Grand Enchanter. It is earned, through trust and a willingness to do what is right. I can only offer you a chance, a chance to prove that you are both worthy of both trust and freedom and willing to earn it."

She smiled at the elf.

"Are you willing to take that chance Grand Enchanter? Are your people?"

IOI

Fiona looked down at the girl's hand.

She thought of all those that she had lost, she thought of Wynne, Shamus, and Bernadette.

She thought of Kell, Nicolas, Julien, and even Utha…

She thought of Genevieve.

She thought of Duncan.

She thought of Maric.

They had believed in her once, the mages had believed in her once.

She had believed that the mages could be more once.

She smiled slightly.

Maybe it was time to believe once again.

She took the girl's hand, and said the one word that would give her that chance.

"Yes."

She smiled.

"We shall take that chance."


	23. The Herald and the Commander

**Chapter 23: The Herald and the Commander**

Ana lay on her bed in her cabin in Haven, listening to the crackle of the fire, and the nighttime voices outside. Haven was no longer the silent little village it had been at the start of the Conclave. More and more pilgrims and volunteers arrived daily; add several hundred rebel mages, apprentices, and young children to the mix and you got to see the bustling army camp that Haven had turned into.

On a normal evening Ana would be out, she preferred solitude sure, but she also understood the value of being seen. She had no intention of becoming distant, Cullen had been right about that, she needed to be out among the faithful, both for their benefit, and for hers, she…

She shuddered slightly.

Cullen.

He had been so angry with her upon their return.

"How could you have done this?"

"You do not have the authority to make such a rash decision!"

He glared at Cassandra.

"You were there, why didn't you stop her?"

Cassandra had defended her, even though it was clear that the Seeker did not agree with her choice, to offer an alliance to the mages. The herald's decision had not been a popular one that was certain. Cullen feared abominations with so many mages here and the veil being torn. Sera clearly did not like being around so many free mages and Iron Bull tended to agree with her, growing up Qunari did not give the large warrior a love of uncertainty.

Vivienne was equally annoyed. She had never denied that she wished to see the circle restored, Ana's choice likely seemed like a slap in the face, even though that had never been the herald's intention. She had never told the mage that she openly supported mage freedom, but at the time, Ana had wanted allies, and after speaking with many of the mages in Redcliffe, it had seemed like the quickest way to assure their loyalty. They had expected chains, and the herald of Andraste had offered them an open hand.

They needed the mages help didn't they? Had she conscripted them, it was no different than what Alexius had done. Ana did not want indentured servants, she wanted allies. People willing to fight for their world because they had a stake in it, not because a soldier was standing behind them with a sword, it seemed like the best way to put the war behind them...

The herald sniffled.

_Of course, she could have been wrong._

Leliana might privately agree with her, but she was also worried about the backlash. Many in Redcliffe had not been happy with the herald's choice, especially after the mages had occupied the village and castle for so many months. There were likely people that thought that the mages had gotten off too lightly considering all that had happened.

What did it matter? The mages had left Redcliffe freely, and made the journey to Haven with little or no complaint. There were still matters to be handled of course, but between the Inquisition's new willing allies, and the soldiers they had on hand, she felt those matters could be overcome.

Ana wiped idly at her eyes, she wasn't crying but she was close to it. She could handle the negativity of the others and the fear, what was bothering her most was Cullen. He had never been so openly angry with her before, even Cassandra, who was more well known for being the emotional member of the group had not yelled at her.

She had accomplished the mission, the mages were getting ready to help, and that should have been all that mattered…

Sadly, it was not.

When she had retired for the evening, she tried to think of why this was bothering her so much. It had been a big choice, yes, but she had had no time for subtly not with the Ferelden army sitting in Redcliffe. The mages had **needed** help, and she had offered it. Cullen had been in Kirkwall had he not? He had seen what squeezing the mages too hard could provoke, and it was not like the mages were **not** being watched, the few Templars that had joined the Inquisition were helping keep matters under control. If the mages could not handle being on their own, restriction could be added for their safety and the rest of Haven.

So why was Cullen so angry, and why did it bother her so?

The answer to that question was not hard, though she was still trying to deny it.

This was not a matter of the head that was not what was bothering her; it was a matter of the heart. Ana had…feelings for the Commander. She definitely had a crush, she would not dispute that, and it was getting worse the longer they worked together.

She sniffled again.

She knew that nothing would come out of it, nothing ever did. She had had several romantic interests back in Ostwick, but those had always fallen through. She was either too independent, not pretty enough, or just a means to an ends for her mother's allies. They realized that they could not influence Lady Aliza through her third daughter so they abandoned their plans and her, and went on to more attractive pursuits.

It was just something that she had gotten used to. She had had several male friends, but they would not approach her, out of either fear or respect for her mother. Most of those boys had been soldiers or lower class nobles, not the kind of person that Lady Aliza would want her daughter with.

They knew that, and stayed away. Which seemingly made Ana's possible future in the chantry all the more likely, at least until the events of the Conclave. She had hoped for better from the Inquisition.

Apparently she had been wrong.

She cursed her foolish heart. What had she been thinking? What would Cullen possibly see in her? He likely only saw her as a weapon, a means to seal the breach. If she had felt any affection from him it was likely because he was humoring her, likely at Leliana's suggestion, trying to keep the herald happy.

She shook her head.

Then she went and did something that he really did not agree with, that had ended all pretenses that he cared.

She sniffled again.

_She felt like a little girl, a stupid, naïve, idiotic girl!_

She hated feeling like this, like she was some fool child whimpering over someone who was clearly way out of her league. It was childish. It was stupid….

And yet…here she was.

She gripped her pillow tightly curling around it like a baby.

She realized that she should get some sleep, it had been a long hard march back from Redcliffe, slow going to, with so many mages travelling with them.

Had she gotten some rest before going before the rest of the council, things might have worked out better?

Unlikely, perhaps, but it was a possibility.

She sighed heavily.

In the morning, she thought, everything will look better in the morning.

She was just trying to drift off when a loud knock at her door startled her.

_Oh Maker, what __**now?**_

"Yes," she groaned.

"It is Commander Cullen, Milady."

She sniffled.

"Yeah…um…yes…Commander, what…what is it?"

"May I come in Milady?"

She sat up in bed. Her blue eyes wide, looking like those of a trapped animal.

_Cullen? __**Here?**_

_And…he wanted to come in._

She looked around the cabin, her armor scattered everywhere, papers strewn across the floor, not to mention the way that she looked, her scarred cheek still looked red, and she still looked horrible from the trip back, she…she had not even taken the time to freshen up.

She whimpered at the very sight of herself in the mirror.

_Cullen was here, and she was a mess!_

She sprang out of bed, wiping at her face, trying hard not to panic.

_Oh Maker!_

_What am I going to __**do?**_

IOI

Cullen stood outside the herald's door, waiting for her to answer, his fingers lightly tapping against his sword.

Despite the coldness of the evening, he could not help but feel…nervous? Which made no sense what so ever, he had no reason to be nervous, he had done nothing wrong.

He realized that he should not even be here, it was inappropriate, but…also…necessary….

…At least…according to Varric Tethras.

IOI

Cullen had been out drilling the new recruits when the dwarf had come up to him. Cullen had said nothing at first, the dwarf was always going somewhere in the camp. Often on his way to speak to this person or that one, he had had no reason to speak with the Inquisition Commander since they had arrived in Haven, he did not see why the dwarf would have reason now.

_Surely Varric had nothing to talk to him about._

_He had been wrong._

"Hey Curly," he had said, "a word if I can?"

The Commander had sighed, and turned to see what the matter was. He had hoped to see to the dwarf's needs quickly so he could get back to work. He had an army to train.

It turned out that Varric's request was not easily dealt with.

He told Cullen how the herald had vanished into her cabin shortly after leaving the war council. Varric had heard from Cassandra that it had not gone well for the girl, and thought it best that Cullen go and speak to her.

"Me," he had said, "Why me?"

The dwarf snorted.

"The Seeker said you came down pretty hard on her during the meeting, Curly," he responded, "Maybe a little too hard."

The Commander pursed his lips.

"I spoke the truth," he said, "I was not aware that the Herald needed coddling."

Varric's eyes narrowed.

"She doesn't, believe me," the dwarf replied, "But that does not mean that she does not have feelings. You need to remember something…the Herald…Ana…she was never a professional soldier, she had adapted pretty well to all of this, but that does not change the fact that she is still just a young woman, a skilled young woman perhaps, but still just a girl."

Cullen frowned.

"You think I hurt her feelings?"

"Maybe."

"That was never my intention," he said, "I disagreed with her choice, but that does not mean that I meant to hurt her. She accomplished her mission; I was merely trying to inform her what we needed to do to make sure that Haven was protected."

The dwarf shrugged.

"It isn't always that simple," he said, "whether you realize it or not, Curly, your opinion matters to her. She cares about the men, and she knows that you speak for them on the council. Having you come after her like that, well…it might have her a little worried that the men don't agree with her choice; maybe she thinks that you all think that she betrayed you."

"She did nothing of the sort."

"Good," Varric grinned, "She will be happy to hear you say that."

Cullen's eyes widened.

"Me? Why can't you do it?"

"If I tell her, she will think I'm just trying to make her feel better. She will think that I'm just spinning a story. If she hears it from you, personally, well…"

Cullen shifted uncomfortably under the dwarf's gaze.

"You don't mince words, Commander. Ana knows that, if she hears from you, she will know that what you are saying is the truth. Surely that is worth your time, giving our herald peace of mind."

He considered what the dwarf was saying, he did not like it, but he realized that Varric was not wrong.

Cullen had grown up around soldiers; he had been training to be a Templar since he was thirteen. He sometimes…well…he sometimes did not react well around women, too many years in the harsh company of soldiers perhaps. He had never worried about hurting another recruits feelings, even if they were women.

Cullen sighed.

Varric was right about one thing. The herald did need peace of mind; they were asking so much of her. If he could put her at ease, it would serve not just her, but the needs of the Inquisition as well.

He owed it to men to make sure the Herald was for whatever task they needed her to perform.

So, he would go and talk to her, for the sake of the Inquisition.

She would see that he held no grudge towards her.

He would talk to her.

Then…she would see.

IOI

"Milady, Herald?"

Ana cursed under her breath.

Damn it, why did he have to be here now! Why could he have not waited until morning! I could have been rested, prepared, I…

She stubbed her toe hard against the dinner table; pain nearly put her on the floor.

"Ahhh," she cried, "Damn it!"

"Milady?" she heard Cullen call out, "Is everything all right?"

She growled at herself.

Stupid, clumsy, cow!

"One moment," she said hobbling to her feet, trying to keep from limping as the pain shot up her leg.

"Ow! Damn...Ow!"

She quickly dumped her armor in the corner, careful not to cut herself on the dagger she kept in one armored boot. She forced herself to stop limping, even though it hurt like Andraste's pyre.

_Be calm_, she thought _be calm_.

It is just Cullen.

It is no problem.

Yeah right.

She went to the door, putting on her most winning smile, hoping it did not look too much like a grimace, her toe throbbing the way it was.

She opened the door, and stood there, smiling. Cullen stood there in full battle armor, looking as uncomfortable as she felt.

At least, she wasn't alone in that, she thought.

One small miracle granted by the Maker.

"Yes Commander," she squeaked, "Is there something I can do for you?"

She silently cursed herself.

Could she not talk around Cullen like a normal person?

Was that so much to ask for?

"Um…good evening Milady Herald," he said, "May I…I come in."

She hiccupped, her brain trying to process that.

Huh? What had he said?

She moved the toe she stubbed, sending a fresh wave of pain up her body.

That helped clear her mind.

"In here…um…yes…yes of course…please commander."

She stepped out of the way and he stepped inside.

She grimaced, trying to stay focused on the matter at hand.

It would not be easy, but she did not have much choice.

Cullen was here.

She did not intend to make a fool of herself twice in one day.

At least, that was her intention.

IOI

Cullen glanced around the cabin, trying to look everywhere but at his hostess.

He meant no disrespect, not after he had come here to clear the air, but…

The herald…Lady Ana had surprised him.

He had not expected her to be getting ready for bed just yet, her shoulder length red hair was in two tiny pony tails emerging from behind her ears. she was dressed in a long man's shirt, the top few buttons were undone giving him a good view of her slender neck, her legs were bare, pale, long, and lean, as she rushed around the cabin he occasionally caught a glimpse of her small clothes as she bent over to push something out of the way.

He coughed and pretended not to notice, not wishing to make this anymore uncomfortable than it already was.

He…he hated to admit it, but he had never thought of the herald as a girl before, he knew she was of course, but at meetings she was always in her armor, or her form was hidden behind a heavy fur cloak.

For the first time, he was seeing what was underneath, it…it was not…unattractive, that was for certain.

He coughed.

_Stop it, and focus, you came here to apologize, not drool like some lecher._

"Can I get you something Commander," she asked, "I think I have…water?"

He swallowed and took a deep breath.

"It is I who owe you something Milady," he began, "I…I owe you an apology."

That made her stop her fussing around the cabin, she gave him a confused look.

"An apology," she asked, "For what?"

"I was…harsh to you today. I…I did not wish to make you feel that you failed us in any way. You accomplished your mission and I…I…"

He glanced her way, perhaps seeing her for what she was for the first time.

The herald was not simply some weapon, but she was not simply a young woman either, seeing her out of her armor, seeing her looking like just another girl, a girl in need of assurance.

It threw him up a bit for a loop.

He was so used to dealing with Cassandra and Leliana, both strong women, but women who had learned to bury their hearts beneath their duty or courage.

The Herald…Lady Trevelyan…she…she had not learned how to do that yet. She was far more open than the women he had gotten used to deal with, he…he had not seen a woman like this in a long time.

Not…not since Solona had…

He swallowed hard.

The look on his face must have disturbed her.

"Commander? Cullen are you all right?"

"I…ah…yes…I'm fine Milady. I just wanted to make sure that you are all right. After what you faced in Redcliffe…it would be fine if you needed to speak with someone."

She gave him a wry smile.

"That…ah…that is very kind of you…um Commander," she nervously rubbed her neck, "What…what I saw in the future, it was…troubling to say the least."

"So I would imagine," he said, "I…I know it is like, being forced to confront your nightmares, back in the Circle tower in Ferelden, back during the Blight…I…I endured something similar. It was not easy dealing with that."

"Really?" she said.

"Really."

"I um…I'm sorry then."

He smiled then, most people would likely try to pry after what he said, and many had tried over the years. What Uldred and his blood mages had did to him, what they did to Solona, it still haunted him.

What the herald described facing in that dark future, it sounded almost as bad, if not worse.

He had went through the aftermath of that alone, he thought he had needed to do it that way, perhaps that had been a mistake.

The girl shook her head.

"What I saw there was bad," she confessed, "but what I felt there was even worse."

"Worse? How was it worse?"

She sighed.

What was worse is how I felt," she said, "When I came back…when I saw that Magister again, it was all I could do to keep from killing him right then and there."

She clenched her hands into fists.

"I was so angry. He had hurt so many people. I wanted to hurt him, him and everyone else in the Venatori. I wanted to make them all pay for what they done. I know they have not done it yet, but still…I…I…"

She shook her head.

"I would not expect you to understand."

Cullen swallowed hard.

He found himself thinking back to when the Hero of Ferelden saved him in the tower.

He found himself remembering what he had said to her.

_Kill Uldred; kill them all for what they have done!_

_To ensure that this horror has ended, that no more abominations or blood mages live, you must kill __**everyone**__ up there!_

_You do not know what they have become._

Those words still haunted him, at that moment he would have likely killed every mage in Thedas if he had had the chance, after what they had done to Solona, and to him…

He would have happily seen them all pay.

If he had never met Bethany Hawke, and Knight-Commander Meredith, he might still feel that way.

He was grateful that he did not.

"You would be surprised, Milady," he said.

She gave him a pained look.

"Part of me wished that I had had some Templar training, your skills would have been useful in Redcliffe Castle. Of course, I doubt I could ever be as skilled as you or Cassandra."

He blushed slightly under her praise.

"You seem quite skilled already, and I can see that Cassandra has taught you at least somethings."

"I suppose she has," Ana shrugged, "Probably the only way I would ever have been able to get any chantry style training."

She blushed slightly.

"I'm not exactly the dutiful type, in case you haven't noticed. Templar training might have been a little to…restrictive for someone like me."

"You are strong, Milady, and a skilled fighter from what I have seen, I'm sure you could have handled the physical demands."

"Maybe," she shrugged, "It is non-physical stuff that likely would have gotten me in trouble," she admitted, "All that prayer, and obedience."

He laughed lightly at that.

"It got to me at times as well."

She smiled, pleased that she had amused him perhaps.

"I can't imagine it was easy."

It wasn't, but it was rewarding, I felt like I was making a difference."

She paused, looking away from him, it might have been the light, but he thought she might be blushing.

"Can I ask you a question, Commander?"

"Of course."

She swallowed.

"I know Templars take a vigil before they join the order fully, but…do you take vows like priests?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Curiosity, I had several family members in the Templars. They never really talked about the training, much."

He shrugged.

"Some take vows, he admitted, "You have to remember, some of us began us brothers and sisters in the Chantry."

"I see," she nodded, "So they took vows like poverty…and…and…"

She laughed nervously.

"And what?" he asked.

Now her cheeks did darken visibly.

"Well um…ah…I guess I wonder if a Templar could...well...marry, or at least enjoy more...physical pursuits."

He quirked his lips in amusement.

"It...it depends on the Templar," he said, "Some feel that the sacrifice of…earthly love brings them closer to the Maker. Those that don't…they can marry, but it requires chantry permission."

"I see," she said, "I…well thank you Commander, and thank you for coming...you have set my mind at ease."

He nodded slightly.

There he had done it. He had repaired any damage he had done to the herald's confidence; at least…he hoped he had.

He turned to leave.

"Ah…Commander?"

He paused.

"Yes, Milady?"

"Did you?" she asked.

"Did I what?"

"Um…ah…take vows?"

That question made him pause.

"I…um…no…I never felt the need to."

"Oh," she said.

He turned to her once again, not the herald, but Ana Trevelyan, just a blushing young woman.

She looked very…vulnerable in that moment, very young and innocent.

It…it made him more than a little uncomfortable.

He looked away nervously.

Oh.

It was such a tiny word, but…

The woman who said it…her eyes said so much more.

"Goodnight, Milady." He said leaving quickly.

He crunched out into the snow feeling like an idiot, a coward.

Oh, all she had said was oh.

He was retreating like she had threatened him.

It was stupid.

He returned to the training yard, he wanted to make sure the recruits were all bedded down well for the night.

He preferred to think about that, about work.

Work he understood, work was familiar.

Oh.

That was confusing; he did not want to do deal with "oh" right now.

He did not want to deal with it at all.

IOI

Ana had not moved. She simply stood there, thinking about what she had said to Cullen, and what he had said back.

He…he had apologized to her, he had actually apologized.

He…he understood.

Her stomach twisted nervously, the way he had looked at her, it was…it was not the way he looked at her in the war council, it was nice, but at the same time…it was terrifying.

Part of her was glad that he was gone, but another part of her…

Well, that part of her was not very happy right now.

She returned to bed, the throbbing in her toe had finally stopped, but it had been replaced by something else….

…The hard throbbing of her heart.

She sighed.

"Oh" she had said. All she had said was "oh."

Surely she could have come up with something better than that.

In fact she thought of something right now, something she could have said, something she should have said.

She smiled slightly.

"Good night Cullen."

_Yes, she could have said that, but she hadn't._

_Oh well,_ she thought.

_Too late now._


	24. Snowbound

**Chapter 24: Snowbound**

Two days after the mages arrived, a heavy snowstorm descended on the village of Haven. For four days it slammed the little village, burying it, and the bulk of the Inquisition leadership under a heavy wet snow.

For the mages this was not much of a problem of course. Elemental mages used their power to protect the pilgrims, soldiers, and refugees from the bulk of the bitter cold. Healers aided Mother Giselle's people in preventing frostbite and other illnesses made worse by the sudden storm. Alchemists, many of them tranquil who had been chased out of Redcliffe, enchanted armor and clothing with flame runes allowing the Inquisition to function during the darkest nights of the frigid storm, many of the mages and their tranquil allies were more than eager to prove that they were willing to give of themselves to help the Inquisition, to justify the faith that the Herald of Andraste had shown in them.

Quickly the people of Haven began seeing that the mages were not their enemies. The Templars and Seekers who had joined the Inquisition were understandably nervous about possible blood mages and Venatori spies hidden within the ranks of their new allies. Fortunately, those brave men and women had learned to trust the wisdom of the war council, and obeyed whatever edicts were passed down from the leadership.

Ana had been busy during those four days. She had spent a lot of time speaking with her fellow council members, trying to come up with the best way to bring the mages into the fold, and at the same time assure the citizens of Haven that they were safe from and blood magic or demons.

Both Cullen and Cassandra agreed that they did not have enough Templars in Haven to successfully watch the mages. Vivienne and her loyalists agreed to help, but that would only go so far.

With the Breach so close, they feared that abominations would soon be running through the streets of Haven, with the veil torn, the threat of possession was very high. Vivienne had an extremely low opinion of her fellows, rabble she called them.

In her eyes they could not be trusted to act responsibly.

The First Enchanter suggested that they take volunteers from among the rank and file soldiers, people willing to be trained in the Templar disciplines to help keep the former rebel mages in check.

Ana agreed but had an additional suggestion.

Volunteers were good, but the council should evaluate these new candidates before their training even began, they needed help sure, but they also needed the **right** kind of help. People that openly hated mages or held grudges for the loss of loved ones during the rebellion needed to be watched closely so that they did not use their new found power to take revenge on the Inquisitions new allies.

Security was good, but trust needed to be gained as well. Ana had a good idea to foster that as well. She intended to approach the surviving First Enchanters with the list of possible Templar candidates, offer them a chance to suggest a few volunteers of their own. Not all of the fighters in the mage army were mages after all. Some were sell-swords, but others were family members, friends or idealists who had not wanted to see the mages killed or made tranquil.

Those people would have an equal stake in keeping the peace, with Templar training they would not only be able to stay with their friends and families, but they would also be able to keep an eye out for Venatori spies and make sure that their fellow Templars did not get out of control in the course of their duties.

Ambassador Montilyet liked the idea

By inviting the mages to have a say in who was to be trained, they would have a stake in their own security. The Templar trained soldiers would not simply be protectors or jailors. They would be chosen defenders, at least, some of them anyway.

Josephine smiled at the Herald.

She thought it an _inspired_ idea.

Cullen agreed to support it, but only if he was allowed to accompany the herald when she met with the mages. It seemed that their…relationship had changed since their late night conversation; he seemed to have taken a more personal stake in her safety.

Ana welcomed him presence, it made her feel…warm, but silently hoped that it would not lead her to sticking her foot in her mouth, yet again.

She did that too much of late around the handsome commander.

Even Vivienne was not against the plan. She might not trust Fiona and her malcontents as she called them, but even she was intrigued by what Ana was offering them. One night while sipping tea around a fire within the chantry, she had approached the herald, a sly smile on her face.

"Tell me my dear," she said, "What future do you see for my people?"

Ana's answer surprised her.

"Most of the mages I spoke to in Redcliffe had little against the circle," the herald began, "it will likely be restored, as you desire, but I don't think it can be simply brought back as what it was. Mages should have a place they can practice their craft in safety, but they also need to have more say in their own governance."

A radical idea perhaps, but she had had help in coming up with it.

She had spent two of the those cold stormy nights speaking to Dorian in Flissa's tavern, they discussed how the Magisters took control of the Imperium again by inches, slowly regaining their old power until only they had a say, and the Templars of Tevinter left toothless, Ana hoped to avoid that happening with the rest of Thedas.

She did not want mage oppression, but she also did not want to see them rise up and dominate every one without magic. The herald had no desire to be the one responsible for the rise of a new imperium. It was a problem with no easy answer.

"_Perhaps a new governing body within the chantry,"_ she suggested, "_made up of both mages and non-mage officials, so that both sides have a voice with neither having an overwhelming majority. It would keep both sides in check, I think."_

Vivienne had smiled at the idea.

"Oh the twists and turns your mind takes, my dear," she chuckled, "The Revered Mothers would have a fit if they heard this."

Ana merely shrugged, she knew that Madame Vivienne wanted to restore the circle, but was that wise, the chantry had hoped the circles would keep the mages not only safe but comfortable, in the end that had not worked out.

The old way led to this war, perhaps it is time to try something new.

Ana had merely made suggestions; it would be up to the decision makers to see them carried out.

In truth she welcomed the work, she hated to admit it, but she was still recovering mentally from Redcliffe, the things she had seen in that dark future. She found that she was now uncomfortable around Cassandra, Solas, Sera, and even Leliana, the memory of their future selves' fate haunted the young herald.

What they had done for her, what their sacrifice had meant…it touched her deeply. She would never ask for such a sacrifice from anyone, a small part of her doubted that she was worth it.

Solas had consoled her by saying that what was done was necessary; her actions had given them all a second chance.

Sera avoided talking about it, the elf hated magic, and the thought of her dying for some noble made her equally uncomfortable, in the end, Ana let the matter drop.

Leliana was not surprised by her future self's sacrifice, she saw it merely as an extension of her own character, her life for getting a second chance to change fate, she saw that as a bargain, and one that she would willingly make again.

It was still very noble, she told the spymaster, and thanked her for it.

Leliana had merely given her that enigmatic smile and returned to her work.

Cassandra had been the most effected by Ana's distance. She had come to see it as her duty to help prepare the herald for the threats that still awaited them. She had likely come to miss their training sessions. Even as the mages prepared to assault the breach, finally the Seeker could take it no longer and approached her young charge.

Then herald had done her best to explain her choice, she hated having to leave her friends in that dark future, she knew it was the right decision, but…not being to help…

She could not help but feel at least a small bit of shame.

Cassandra's expression softened.

She told her about Byron, her own mentor, she had come to love the old man like a father. He had taught her everything she had known about being a Seeker. Byron had died in front of her, trying to save a young mage girl from the machinations of a cult of blood mages. He had been trying to protect both her and Cassandra at the time.

The Seeker shook her head.

Yes, she understood the pain that Ana was feeling, but unlike her the Herald had a chance to make it right, to make sure that what had happened in 9:42 Dragon did not happen again. Life gave few second chances.

She felt that the herald should be grateful to have been given one.

The young woman nodded, in her head she had known what Cassandra was saying was the truth, but her heart refused to accept it. Perhaps she had just needed to hear Cassandra's opinion, to know that the Seeker did not blame her for leaving her future self to die.

Perhaps she had been looking for forgiveness?

Ana sighed.

As always she appreciated the warrior woman's perspective on things, it always gave her something to think about.

Fate had given her a second chance…it was best that she not waste it.

IOI

No sooner had the Inquisition reopened the roads Haven, the Bull's Chargers returned from Theirinfall Redoubt. They had arrived there to find the Templar fortress abandoned, the amount of Templar corpses they found their suggested there had been infighting among the chantry's former knights, fighting and signs that some Templars had taken sick and been executed to prevent them slowing the others down.

Krem's people had also found evidence of demonic activity. That had surprised Cassandra and Leliana, the thought that a demon could have been active in a fortress surrounded by Templars? It was something that would need to be investigated further.

One thing was for certain, the Templars were on the move somewhere, and they were being silent about it, what that meant for the Inquisition none could say just yet.

Cullen suggested that they increase patrols around the mountain paths around Haven, and post more watchers in the Hinterlands, in case the Lord Seeker decided to come calling on them. The former Templar had hoped that hearing that the mages had agreed to work with the Inquisition would convince the Templars to come over too. Wishful thinking it seemed.

Ana did her best to continue on with their work, but the thought of the Templars moving silently worried her, and that wasn't all. There was something else; she had not mentioned it to the others, but…

Ever since the chargers had returned, strange things had started happening.

She would return to her cabin in the evening and discover that things had been moved while she had been away. Books left open, her hairbrush moved from her dresser to the bed. A water pitcher refilled when she had not told anyone that it was empty.

She had asked the servant assigned to help her, but the girl denied having done anything. She knew that Lady Ana did not like anyone entering her quarters without her consent.

Ana did not try to intimidate the girl, but merely being the Herald of Andraste had done that. If the girl claimed not to have been in her cabin, then that was likely the truth, but if it wasn't her…

Then who was it?

Plus, she got the feeling that someone was watching her. Occasionally she would catch a glimpse of someone out of the corner of her eye, she would turn and they would be gone. She thought to mention it to Cullen but that desire slipped her mind shortly after she had had it, some other issue would come up, and it would seem so silly.

_Of course she was being watched, she was the Herald of Andraste, wasn't she? It was likely that it was just some pilgrim, curious about the girl who was causing such a fuss back in Orlais._

Her watcher did not strike her as a threat, even the moving objects in her cabin did not seem to come from malicious intent. The acts seemed more curious than threatening.

She kept an eye out for anyone new in Haven, not an easy thing given the amount of new arrivals that seemed to show up daily, either to sign up for the Inquisition, or simply looking for safety.

One day, when she was talking to Solas, she noticed a strange boy watching them; he was dressed strangely, dirty leathers with a large wide brimmed hat hiding his features.

She thought that **this** might just be her mysterious shadow.

She smiled.

_Gotcha._

She had started walking his way, eager to speak with him. She…

Ana blinked.

_Wait? What?_

She found herself standing in the snow looking at an empty space, with no idea why.

_Had…had she wanted to speak with someone? It felt like she had._

_Hmm?_

She looked around, yet there was no one there, besides the usual priests and soldiers that wandered through this part of the village, still it was strange...

_She could have sworn…_

"Is there a problem Ana?" Solas had asked.

The herald blinked.

"I…I…no, Solas," she answered.

She looked around again, she was sure that she had seen someone…

_Hadn't she?_

"No problem at all."

She shook her head.

_Perhaps Haven was starting to get to her._

She returned to the chantry, she hoped to speak with Josephine, find out what was happening with the nobles that had arrived this morning.

She also hoped that she might get some task that would take her out of Haven for a while.

She had been sitting on her hands for far too long, she had had enough rest.

She was eager to get back to work.


	25. The Hand of a God

**Chapter 25: The Hand of a God**

"I have just come to adore the south, it is so quaint here, so rustic with its swamp gas and swarms of flies and mosquitoes."

Dorian chuckled to himself.

"I just love it too little pieces, would you not agree, Milady Herald?"

Ana tried not to giggle, Dorian was not wrong in his assessment of this place. When she received the request from Lieutenant Harding to proceed as quickly as she could to the Falo Mire she had hoped for something a little better than the mountains of snow of Haven. A mission that would allow her to gage Dorian's abilities to work with the other members of what she was starting to consider her inner-circle, she knew what Solas could do, and Vivienne was now also a known commodity.

Now, it was Dorian's turn.

The scion of House Pavus had performed well in the dark future of 9:42 Dragon, but that had been life or death, she needed to see if he could handle being on a mission with her and the others. The group needed to see that they could depend on Dorian; she knew he could do it, now they had to see it. That was why she had brought him on this mission.

She had wanted a battle situation.

What she had gotten was a swamp.

The herald wrinkled her nose, the damp smell of rot and decay filled her nostrils, ruins of buildings slowly being reclaimed by the muck showed that there had been a settlement here…once, but now even that was gone, slowly being swallowed up by the bog and wildlife that called this lovely location home.

Varric riding behind her and Blackwall chuckled at the mage's response.

"Not the kind of place you usually travel in, serah?" he asked.

Dorian smirked at him.

"Tell me Master Tethras," he said, "What is a debt collector from Kirkwall's dwarven merchant's guild doing in the Inquisition?"

Varric smirked right back.

"I have my reasons," he replied, "what is a pampered Tevinter nobleman doing here?"

The mage looked aghast.

"_Pampered_? You think I'm _pampered_. I'll have you know I have gone three full weeks now with no one volunteering to peel my grapes for me; I would hardly call myself pampered in the face of that hardship.

Ana chuckled.

Dorian smiled at her.

"How about you my dear Lady Trevelyan, you are of noble blood too? Know any good grape peelers in Haven?"

"Can't say that I do Lord Pavus," she replied, "Not that I was ever used to such treatment, being the third born, I was not exposed often to that type of thing."

Blackwall snorted.

"I doubt that you would have availed yourself to such treatment even if you had the option Milady," the warden said, "I've seen you in combat, you are warrior born, such trivial pleasures would not please one such as you."

Ana blushed slightly. Anyone else, she might say the comment was just smoke, but coming from Blackwall, one of the most hardened warriors she had ever known…

…That meant something.

Dorian sniffed the air with distaste; clearly the Falo Mire was disturbing his noble sensibilities.

"What a lovely shade of muck," he murmured.

Varric chuckled.

"This is nothing, Sparkler," he said jovially, "You should see the Tellari Swamp in Antiva, now that is something. Three years ago a couple of friends and I had business in that place."

Varric shook his head at the mere memory of it.

"High dragons, witches of the wilds, undead Antivan noblemen that explode when you question them, that right there was something to talk about.

Ana gave Varric a strange look.

"You are kidding right," she asked.

He merely grinned at her.

"I'll tell you the story sometime, Kiddo, I promise."

She shook her head.

_Sometimes she thought all of Varric's wild tales were just bullshit…_

…_Other times, she prayed that they were._

She had read Varric's _the Tale of the Champion_ and he had let her read an early draft of his latest book _the Hunt for King Maric._ The things the dwarf had seen in his travels were quite fantastic, they were entertaining tales, but part of her that wanted the world to be sane, it tried denying the more fantastic things he described.

She wanted normal. So many amazing things had happened to her since the Conclave. She wanted to believe that those were all happenstance, if everything Varric wrote was true, that meant that the world was far crazier than she thought.

She did not like thinking about that. If all those tales were true, then that meant the world had been going nuts long before the conclave. That the insanity was likely **too** big even for the Inquisition to fix.

_She did not want to believe that was so._

She had to believe that they could fix this mess, she **had** to.

She tried to push all thoughts of dragons, witches, and trips to the fade out of her mind. She tried to stay focused on the job at hand, finding Harding and helping her.

That was **sane,** that **was** normal.

Blackwall regarded the dank swamp that was slowly surrounding them, if being here bothered the warden he did not show it, at least not visibly anyway.

He merely took a deep breath of the air and snorted.

"I've been in worse places," he said to no one at all.

Ana smirked at the warden's remark, Blackwall had a gift of saying more with three words than most people could say with a hundred.

There was something about the warden, a cold competence that she was more than a little envious of truth be told. Blackwall did not have to put on a brave front. He was brave. People recognized him for what he was, and they listened. When they had first met, the warden had told her that a warden could inspire, make a person better than what he or she truly was.

He had not been wrong about that. Many a soldier in Haven saluted as he passed.

Blackwall would obey the orders of the various Inquisition commanders, no one doubted that, but when she gave an order, he jumped to respond. She was not sure when she had won his respect, but it was clear that she had it. When the warden bowed to her will, it only seemed to increase her standing in the Inquisition. If even a warden bent knee to the Herald, could they do any less?

She hated to admit it, but she was not above using that authority, not if it helped her get things done. The men respected Blackwall, and the women…

Ana smiled slightly.

The warden's arrival had not gone unmarked by the women of Haven either, she had heard several lay sisters talking about him in Flissa's Tavern whispering the tales they had heard about warden…stamina, and appetites beyond simple battle. More than a few would not have resisted if the barrel chested warrior asked for their company for the night, some would have eagerly accepted the challenge of trying to warm his bed. So far, he had not returned their attention but that only seemed to add to his mystique.

The dark mysterious lone warrior, Ana knew many girls back in Ostwick who ate that kind of thing up. Blackwall was the kind of man that got a maiden's young heart pounding. If he desired companionship, he would not have trouble finding willing volunteers. She was not among them of course, but that was because she had…other interests.

The herald smiled slightly.

…Or perhaps…it was because her heart had simply already been spoken for.

Despite what others said she was simply grateful to have the warden with them. If Harding's people had run into trouble they would need a strong sword arm today.

Not that his loyalty to the cause was his only reason for being here of course.

Blackwall had volunteered to accompany them on this mission because he had heard rumors of warden artifacts that had been lost long ago in the ruins of Hargrave Keep, deep in the swamps of the Falo Mire, that and he felt he had been derelicting his duty lately by staying behind in Haven.

The herald did not see that as the case.

Blackwall had brought his warden treaties over to the Inquisition, using them wisely; Ambassador Montilyet had garnered great support for the Inquisition cause in both Ferelden and Orlais. Plus, Blackwall had saved her life several times during their brief visit to Valammar, even killing a hurlock alpha all but by himself.

He had nothing else to prove, not in her eyes.

The sound of voices pierced the misty veil ahead of them. Slowly the Inquisition camp came into view, a light rain fell on the scouts moving to and fro through the camp. Ana called out, letting them know that she had arrived.

Harding stepped up to meet her, the dwarf looked a mess from the miserable weather, but she seemed more than pleased to see the Herald and her companions.

She gave Ana a curt bow.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Your Worship," the dwarf said.

"It is no problem lieutenant," she said, "You're missive said some of our people were in trouble."

"That is correct Your Worship. One of our patrols was captured by the Avvar. We think they are being held for ransom."

Ana blinked, cursing the fact that she had not spent more time in the Haven library during the snowstorm.

"Forgive me, lieutenant," she said, "I must confess. I'm not that knowledgeable of the people of Ferelden. What exactly are the Avvar?"

It was Blackwall that answered her.

"Barbarians from the Frostback Mountains, They have spent the last thousand years resisting civilized society in all its forms. Good fighters thought, knew more than a few good grey wardens that were born in those mountains."

Ana nodded.

So they had barbarians to deal with now.

How nice.

"What are they doing in a bog?"

"Apparently they have come down here to honor their gods," the dwarf replied.

Varric sighed.

"I don't suppose they have made any demands?" he asked.

Harding winced.

"Their leader has," she said.

"What does he want?" Ana asked.

"Your head, Your Worship," the scout said looking away from her.

Ana blinked.

What?

"Have…have I offended these Avvar in some way?"

Harding sighed.

"Apparently their leader wants you dead because you are the Herald of Andraste."

"What do these people have against Andraste?"

"The Avvar have a lot of gods, Your Worship. The sky has a god. The mountains have a god. The forests have a god. When people started saying that you have been sent by the Maker, this Avvar leader decided that your continued existence is an affront to their faith. They are willing to challenge our god with theirs, to prove their superiority."

Harding shook her head.

"Personally though, I think their leader is just a boastful little prick who wants to home and say he killed you."

Ana felt a little sick.

She wished she could say that she was surprised by all this, but she wasn't.

It was only a matter of time before something like this happened. She was kind of surprised the Qunari had not sent killers after her yet.

Iron Bull promised to keep an eye out for that order, so when it did come she would have time to prepare, provided he wasn't the one trusted to carry it out.

That last part might have been a joke, but she would keep an eye on bull anyway, just to be safe of course.

"I don't suppose that we could speak to these Avvar, negotiate with them?"

Blackwall chuckled.

"We could offer to sell them the Tevinter," he suggested, "The Avvar hate them more than any other lowlander."

He turned to the mage.

"How about it Dorian," he asked, "You ready to give your life for the cause?"

"I'll pass thanks," the mage replied, "And even if I did, I'm sure our herald would miss my rapier wit and stunning good looks."

Ana rolled her eyes.

"Let us not forget your boundless humility," she said.

"Of course not," he replied with a saucy grin.

"I don't think negotiating is going to work here, Your Worship," Harding continued, from what I learned from the survivors of the Avvar attack, they consider talking up right there with reading. It is for the weak. Nobles, scholars, Orlesian peasants, steel will likely serve you better than words here."

Ana shook her head. It seemed that she had little choice now.

If she wanted to save those men, she would have to meet these barbarians on their terms.

Again her title as herald was getting her into trouble, first with the Venatori now this…

Part of her wondered if it was even worth all this.

"Do we at least know where the Avvar are holding our men?"

"In the ruins of Hargrave Keep," the dwarf responded.

"A good location," Blackwall nodded, "Tough to get to, and easily defendable. Marching on that place would be quite difficult."

"It is worse than that warden," the scout said, "The Falo Mire…well…there is a problem."

Ana's brow furrowed…

…Today just kept getting better and better.

"What kind of problem Harding?"

"Well…to reach the keep, you…you will have to fight your way through an army of undead."

Varric coughed.

"Did…did you say undead?"

"Yes."

"As in shambling flesh eating corpses?" Ana added.

"We haven't seen them eat anyone yet," the dwarven scout said, "But walking corpses, yeah."

The herald paled slightly.

"You do not have a problem with undead, do you, Your Worship?"

She swallowed hard.

_Barbarians and undead both…wonderful!_

"They're not my favorite kind of monsters," she informed the scout.

"I would avoid the water then," Harding suggested, stepping through it just seems to stir them up."

Ana glanced through the mists, everywhere she looked ahead of her she saw pools of stagnant water. It would be difficult if not impossible to pass through the Mire without stepping through at least one.

Still…what choice did she have?

She would not abandon those men, not if she could help it.

She did not care what some boastful little prick of an Avvar said.

This was not about faith and who had which god's favor.

He had hurt soldiers of the Inquisition.

She would see him pay for that.


	26. Duel

**Chapter 26: Duel**

The mark on her hand began to pulse again.

Ana looked down, despite wearing gauntlets, the magic still managed to crackle through, sputtering and sparking continuously.

The herald's eyes narrowed, knowing what that meant after so many months of living with it gaging the reaction of the magical wound.

_There was an active fade rift nearby, and she would need to deal with it before they moved on, this place was bad enough. They did not demons wandering around aimlessly as well…_

_She snorted trying to wipe swamp muck off her gauntlet without getting any her hair, not an easy challenge to be sure…_

…_Just another annoyance in an already rotten day._

The Falo mire was turning out to be a very nasty place. The stench and dampness seemed to be getting right into her bones, the rain left her feeling as cold and as wet as the landscape around them, and if that wasn't enough the soggy undead sloshing their way out of the marshes continued to harass them and slow the progress of their search for the Avvar and the missing Inquisition patrol.

Ana sighed.

She found herself wondering if this was all her life was going to be now, trudging through dark places, getting lost from one battle to another.

It was almost enough to make her regret her decision coming here, but if she hadn't…who would have helped save the missing patrol?

No one.

Strangely enough, her mind began to wander; she found herself thinking of Ostwick, thinking of home, her family, and friends. What was going on there now? To be perfectly honest, she had lost all track of the date and time, Haven seemed stuck in an eternal winter and Ferelden seemed cold no matter what month it was.

How long had it been since the conclave, six months, seven? She could no longer say for sure, with all her travels she no longer had any idea what was going on in the world right now, accept that the Inquisition was advancing as fast as they could on the world, spreading the legend as they went.

**Her** legend.

The Herald of Andraste, what in the Maker's name had she been thinking accepting such a title?

She found herself thinking about Great Aunt Lucille's Summerball, what had been the trends this year? What had her old circle of friends worn? Had their gowns been considered tasteful or tacky? How was Mother dealing with the news coming out of Ferelden? Did Lizzy still think her some kind of monster? Had they…

An undead warrior exploded out of the water near here, its gurgly wet howls making her shiver despite her armor. She got up her sword...just barely, parrying his blow.

The herald gritted her teeth, pushing the horror back.

_That is what happens when you get distracted in a dangerous place_, her conscience chided.

_You should be wounded right now, or dead._

Master Geoffrey would have tanned her hide for such blindness.

The corpse tried to lunge again, but this time she was ready. She back pedaled drawing it farther out of the water; it stumbled as it stepped up onto dry land.

She jabbed out with the edge of her buckler, knocking the creature to its knees.

A quick swipe of her sword made sure that it would not trouble them again. Behind her she heard Bianca cough as Varric fired into even more of the foul creatures trying to emerge from the swamp. Dorian brought fire against them as well, even as soggy as these corpses were, they still burned quite well if they made it out of the water. Blackwall remained where he was, watching her back; the undead had little luck trying to flank or surround them as long as the two warriors stood back to back.

Again she was grateful for his presence, a stalwart shield and blade was always welcome when walking into darkness and death.

"We need to stay on the path," the warden grumbled, "use those markers we found, draw all these bastards out of hiding so they won't be leaping out at us so much."

Ana whole heartedly agreed the markers that they had found did work well to draw out the undead; they were high enough off the ground that the creatures did not surprise them, and the veil fire used to summon them was equally useful. The herald was grateful that Solas had shown Dorian how to conjure it, it had saved their lives several times already.

"So many corpses," the mage said shaking his head, "I suppose we should not be surprised, not with all the plague victims here. Say one thing about city life, at least there you can find a healer when you are ill. What do they have here, twigs and berries?"

The herald sighed.

Dorian was not wrong.

They had found evidence of a plague, abandoned shacks and burned out funeral pyres. Whatever had struck this place was bad and fast. They had found no evidence of survivors so it was likely a good guess that anyone living here was likely now just another shuffling corpse hiding in the swamp water.

It was a sad thought…

…_these poor people._

"The Inquisition was lucky here," Blackwall said, "The plague was pretty much all played out by the time our soldiers arrived, should keep us all safe from the sickness, no living victims left to drag us down with them."

She winced at his coldness, but saw the practicality in it as well. What had happened to these people was horrible, but at least they were all safe from the plague. No point in letting **that** loose in the Inquisition's ranks. They had enough trouble right now as it was.

She tried to deny such thoughts taking root in her brain. The Avvar and the lost Inquisition soldiers, that was what she needed to focus on right now, everything else was a distraction.

Distractions could kill out here.

She let the mark guide her; it led her away from the path deeper into the bog. The others saw her raise her hand, using the mark's power like a beacon.

No one said a word as they followed, these undead were likely shambling along because of the demons that had found their way here through this rift, by closing it; they had a better chance of reaching the Avvar.

Besides, Ana was spoiling for a good fight, she could do nothing about the plague, or the missing soldiers' plight, but she could do this.

She could seal the rifts.

She heard Varric groan as he stepped in something foul.

"Hopefully, these Avvar understand what taking hostages mean," He commented, "Hostages tend to be more useful alive than dead."

Dorian gave him a sick smile.

"If we are lucky, hostage and dinner are not interchangeable words among these barbarians."

Ana paled.

_She…she had not thought of that!_

_Surely, surely these Avvar wouldn't…couldn't…_

_**Oh Maker.**_

"The Avvar are **not **cannibals," Blackwall growled, "Be grateful for that Tevinter, or I might be tempted to offer you up on the menu."

Dorian smirked at him.

"Do you have anything against Tevinters, my good ser?"

"I have problem with pampered noble shits."

"Then it is fortunate that I am not one," the mage replied gamely, "pampered I mean, I am most definitely a noble shit."

The Warden shook his head and continued on.

Ana felt the hair on the back of her next starting to rise as they drew near the fade rift. It flickered weakly, not sealed but closed, similar to the one they had found in the remains of the temple of sacred ashes.

She had been so caught up in the sight of it that she had nearly missed the man standing close by it, his features hidden by the shadows that the rift was putting out.

He stepped into the light as they approached.

Ana stifled a gasp.

Hello Big, she thought.

The giant of a man was smaller than Iron Bull, but not by much, he was wrapped in fur, tattoos, and leather. The huge maul he carried was likely as heavy as she was and almost as large, he did not hold it in a threatening manner, just let it rest on one massive shoulder.

She swallowed hard.

If all the Avvar were this big, they were likely all in trouble.

From the look on his face the barbarian appeared amused by their arrival, or perhaps he just thought them foolish to have ventured so far into this wet unpleasant place.

"I am Skywatcher," he said in a heavy accented voice, "You must be Herald of Andraste then, my kin want you dead Lowlander, but it isn't my job."

She suppressed a sigh of relief.

At least this Avvar knew the king's tongue. It would make it easier going forward.

"I thought the Avvar wanted to fight me?" she asked.

"It is not my place to take part in some whelp's trophy hunt. I'm the one who deals with the after of such things. Rites to the gods, bandages for the wounded, a dagger for the dying that is what I do."

Ana nodded.

So this was a holy man…a healer then, or perhaps a priest or a shaman?

At least he wasn't it enemy that is a good thing.

"I am Ana," she introduced herself, "It is a pleasure to meet you Skywatcher, but I must ask, if you are not out here to fight me, then why are you here?"

"I'm trying to understand these holes in the world," the big man shrugged, "The Lady of the Sky is silent, the wounds in her skin give us no answers, even the flocks of birds are confused, and they are born to her world."

Dorian blinked.

"You use bird signs as a foci? Interesting."

"I interpret the will of the Lady of the Sky," the big man added, "Yet so far…she offers me no answers."

"They are called fade rifts," the herald offered, "the result of some magic gone bad."

"Already knew that lowlander," the Avvar replied, "I had hoped to divine how best to fight these…wounds with my Lady's blessing, but so far…nothing."

Ana approached the rift.

"I'm going to try and seal this, will you attack me if I try?" she asked the shaman.

The big shook his head.

"As I said, it is **not **my job," he shrugged.

Ana smiled.

_Thank the Maker for small favors._

She started to raise her hand, reaching out to the rift; she would need to tear it open again so that it could be sealed properly.

She looked at Skywatcher.

"You might want to ready your weapon," she said, "Things could get crowded around here in a minute."

The large man dropped his maul into combat position.

She took a deep breath.

_Here goes nothing._

She pushed out with the mark, forcing the rift fully open.

It yawned wide.

Demons started to be drawn through.

Her allies were ready.

Ana watched with surprise as Skywatcher lain into the demons with his maul. He might have been a holy man, but it was clear that he was a fighter as well. She saw him cave in the head of a terror with a single strike. Varric kept back, using Bianca to pick away at the wraiths floating just out of sword range.

One by one the demons were dispatched, their energy flowing back into the rift, weakening it.

When it was time, Ana thrust out her hand again, letting the magic in her mark seize the rift.

She pulled once again, unraveling it.

The rift sealed properly, with a loud wet pop.

Skywatcher looked upon her with amazement.

"It seems that you **do** have your god's favor Herald," he exclaimed, "The holes in the air obey your commands."

Blackwall chuckled at the large man's surprise.

"There is a reason so many serve our Herald, Avvar," he said proudly.

Skywatcher merely nodded.

"Perhaps my chieftain's whelp has bitten off more than he can chew this time."

Ana accepted the compliment for what it was, but she was not here simply to impress these barbarians. She had other concerns.

It was time to see to them.

"Have you seen my people," she asked, "have they been hurt?"

"They were all still living last I was there," Skywatcher replied, "They killed more of us than we thought they would, someone has trained them well."

"Good to know," Ana replied.

"Watch the water," he cautioned.

She nodded and gave the large shaman a slight bow.

"Farewell Skywatcher of the Avvar, may the blessings of your gods be upon you."

He returned the gesture.

"May yours be upon you herald. Hopefully, you will not be dead at the whelp's hand the next we meet."

Ana grimaced.

She hoped so too.

IOI

"_**RUUUUN!"**_

Ana bashed an undead with her shield even as she beheaded a second. Dorian threw fireballs at several archers, but that did little to spoil the monster's aim.

They were burning, and yet still were targeting them. They would likely keep shooting at them as long as they had flesh to hold their weapons, and that was not the worst of their problems.

The undead continued to come, more and more every second…

They were outnumbered and worse, they were surrounded.

They had only one option left, the order that Blackwall had shouted.

They ran!

Warden and Herald plowed through the undead, using their shields as a battering ram. In the distance Hargrave Keep rose like a dark mountain, offering salvation, as long as they had time to reach it.

Arrows fired by undead whizzed past their heads, Ana did her best to shield herself, but soon her buckler was peppered with arrows, and still the undead came, more and more every second.

Dorian called out as he brought his staff down deep into the muck, a pulse of arctic cold blasted out at the undead, as a wall of ice blocked the corpses' path, arrows broke harmlessly against the block.

Winded Dorian staggered after his fellows, Varric covering him with his crossbow.

"Not bad Sparkler", he grinned, "Not bad at all."

Dorian gave him a sheepish grin.

Blackwall took point as they broke through the castle's entrance. Several Avvar bowmen tried to block their path. The warden did not even pause, he barreled towards the barbarians.

A few moments later, their heads fell from the walkway; their bodies joined them a few seconds later.

Ana dropped into a defensive position near the opening, her shield up and her feet locked. No more undead would breach these gates. Dorian and Varric joined her, sending magic and bolts into the wall of corpses, many fell, but still many more came.

Finally, above them, Blackwall reached his destination, the gate control on the upper level; the warden threw the switch dropping the heavy iron portcullis down on the shambling undead.

The heroes sighed with relief, realizing that the monsters could go no farther. The herald slumped down in the mud, thanking the Maker and whoever else for their good fortune.

They were here. They were a little winded but they had made it, they had reached the castle.

Now they just had to deal with the Avvar, and save that patrol. Not easy perhaps, but not unsurmountable either.

Getting here had been the hard part.

Now…the fun could begin.

She groaned as she rose, stretching her tired back. She dipped into her pack for a healing draught; the biggest problem they faced right now was that they were all tired from fighting. The Avvar were likely well rested and ready for war.

It did not make for a fair fight, but as he old master was fond of saying.

Life wasn't fair.

IOI

No words passed between them as they made their final push towards the castle's great hall. No one doubted that they were being watched, The Avvar might not being attacking them, but it was more than certain that they were being observed.

Ana mounted the steps leading up to the ruined hall; she counted at least ten Avvar inside, archers and warriors both.

At the back of chamber sitting on a high backed chair was a powerfully built young man. He was at least as big as Skywatcher, bones and bits of armor jangled around his neck as he stood, trophies likely taken in earlier encounters. Despite the darkness around them, she could catch the glint of yellow sharpened teeth.

He let out a booming laugh.

"This…_**THIS**_ is the Herald of Andraste, a mere slip of a girl?!"

He shook his head with mirth.

"Your god has an interesting sense of humor, I will give him that."

She glared at him, the one who had taken their soldiers, who had threatened to kill them if she did not fight him.

He wanted this; he would damn well take this seriously.

"I am Anastasia Aliza Trevelyan," she called out, "You have taken soldiers of the inquisition, you will return them or die."

The large warrior rose.

"So the mouse can growl, good," he said drawing his maul.

He let out a battle cry that would have scared most people.

Ana shivered but did not back up, she would not be intimidated…

She was too angry at this prat to be intimidated.

"Face me Herald of Andraste," he crowed, "I AM THE HAND OF KORTH HIMSELF!"

He lunged down the steps spinning his maul.

Ana stood her ground.

The Avvar roared like a dragon as he charged her, eager to cave in her skull with his massive weapon.

He brought it down in a wicked arc.

She was no longer there.

She lunged forward with her sword, the barbarian batted her away with his hand, he took a glancing blow on his arm, but not enough to make him stop.

He roared and charged again.

Varric and Dorian looked ready to get involved, but Blackwall stopped them.

This was the herald's fight, the rest of the Avvar were staying out of it.

They needed to do the same.

IOI

Ana back pedaled as the Hand of Korth lunged at her again and again.

The Avvar was strong, she did not doubt that, he muscled his way through this fight like a bear, eager to catch her and maul her to death.

She did not give him that chance.

He might be a bear, but she was a panther or perhaps a snake, fast and sly. Even in heavy plate she was faster than the barbarian, his weapon, though deadly, could not change direction very easily. When he committed to a blow he had to follow it through.

In that, the longsword had the advantage. She had the luxury of options.

It would be the death of her opponent.

She danced around him, inflicting precise wounds on his body; none would kill him, at least not by themselves, but together, with a bit more blood loss…

Things would soon start swinging in her favor.

The so-called Hand of Korth likely realized that. He frenzied savagely swinging his weapon every which way.

The Herald dodged the first blow, then the second, but by the time they got to the third…

She miscalculated.

Her buckler took the worst of the hit, and broke apart in several heavy pieces. Ana screamed as her left arm decided to keep it company. She was flung down hard, the wind knocked out of her by the Avvar's powerful blow.

She lay on the ground gasping, trying to regain her sword.

The Avvar howled in triumph and charged her again.

Ana appeared confused, stunned, she was in pain, her hand groping for her sword.

The Hand of Korth stood over her, his maul raised over his head. He bellowed in triumph.

It was all the opportunity that the herald needed.

She brought up her armored foot, driving it hard between the Avvar's legs,

All crowing from the large warrior ceased.

He lost his grip on his maul the weight of it made him stagger back.

Ana wrapped her fingers around her longsword. She was on her feet in seconds.

The Avvar leader tried to back pedal but between the pain in his groin and the heaviness of his weapon, it was not an easy maneuver.

Ana was upon him like a snake, her blade flashing up.

She drove it deep under the Hand of Korth's chin, striking easily through the soft spot under his jaw.

The Avvar's eyes widened in surprise, surprise that still showed after the light faded from his eyes.

Anastasia Aliza Trevelyan, the Herald of Andraste glared at him. It might not have been the most honorable of moves, she would admit that, but it had worked.

She stared into the Avvar's eyes, watched as his soul left for wherever it was meant to go.

Despite the pain, or perhaps in spite of it, she smiled.

"Tell your god I'm sorry," she murmured.

She took a step back… ripping her blade free, the Hand of Korth staggered, his body starting to fall.

She did not give it a chance.

"You left me no choice," she said grimly.

She whirled spinning her blade savagely.

Even one handed, it was a mighty blow.

It took the dying Avvar's head off, the head flew back up the steps he had descended to fight her. The body staggered and toppled.

Ana stood there nursing her broken arm, her face covered with the blood of her adversary.

She glared at the shocked Avvar; they had thought to see **her** dead this day.

She had surprised them.

She took an old rusted key from the fallen barbarian's body. She took in his followers, her eyes shining with death.

"You have your lives," she said loudly, "Take them in Andraste's name, but if you threaten the Inquisition again…"

She smiled fiercely.

"You shall all see my god's vengeance; never forget what you have seen here today."

"Never!"

IOI

Varric grinned.

He was trying very hard to burn everything around him into his memory.

The look on Ana's face the shock on the Avvars', even the flash of lightning outside.

When he put all this down on paper he did not want to forget anything, but it was likely that even his words would not do this moment justice.

The Power of the Herald

The justice of Andraste!

He would come up with a proper title later, after he had spoken with Leliana and Ambassador Ruffles.

They would love this story too.

For now though he was grateful just that Ana was alive, that she had put the bastard in his place.

The Hand of Korth would find immortality, he would be known for having fallen to the Herald of Andraste.

Varric would make sure this story got to all the right ears.

It was the least he could do.

He would honor his friend.

He would honor Ana.

Well done Kiddo, he thought.

Well done indeed.


	27. To Help

**Chapter 27: To Help**

"**To the Herald!"**

The cheers went up into the night sky, Haven was lit up like a field of fireflies, torches and bonfires had turned the valley into a sea of lights. Tonight was a moment of celebration and thanksgiving, honoring the arrival of the mages to the cause, and celebrating the Herald's rescue of the men in the Falo Mire.

The breach still glowed overhead, but with the necessary lyrium set to arrive several days from now, most believed that the massive tear in the veil would soon be sealed, and the Inquisition's greatest promise to the people of Thedas fulfilled.

Thought of victory over the massive rift had raised everyone's hopes. Only one thing remained one final piece of the puzzle…

All that was needed was for the Herald of Andraste to seal the breach.

Cullen moved silently through the army camp, somberness and order had been replaced with joy and jubilation. He said nothing to the revelers that had chosen to raise a glass or goblet and celebrate tonight's festivities. He understood the value of fighting men and women needing their diversions. Everyone here had trained hard and fought harder.

They all deserved a little release.

Part of him wished to join them, but he held his quiet resolve. In the morning they would continue with their grand mission. He had no wish to make the men feel nervous about their Commander reveling beside them.

He frowned slightly.

Greagoir would likely have remained absent at such an affair, likely remaining in his quarters. Meredith would not have condoned it; she would have demanded that no celebration take place until all their objectives had been achieved.

Cullen was not like either of them. He believed in discipline yes, but refused to let it dominate his life, and the lives of those serving under him.

After so much darkness since the Conclave, the warriors of the Inquisition could use a little light in their lives. He would not deny them that.

So he let the men and women play, tomorrow they would need to get back to work, but tonight…tonight was theirs.

He pulled his cloak tighter against his body; another cold mountain breeze ruffled the fur that lined his collar as he made for the gates of Haven. He figured he would go to the chantry, speak with Cassandra, she was no doubt also sitting out the welcome to the fight party. Ambassador Montilyet had done herself proud tonight; few could doubt the grandeur of this celebration. She had brought this all together quite quickly, but considering that the suggestion had come from the Herald herself, that was not a surprise.

Few in the Inquisition wanted to disappoint the Lady Trevelyan.

Cullen paused, a hint of a smile on his face.

Part of him reconsidered his decision to retire so early. He found himself wondering what the herald was up to this eve, perhaps he would seek her out, see if they could…speak.

It was rare that they did anything except talk Inquisition business; he would not lie when he said he had started to grow curious about her, the life she had led before, what had enjoyed doing in those far off days. Had…had she left anyone behind?

The commander coughed and shook his head.

Where had that thought come from?

He glanced back at the army camp, his duty was there, but for tonight he was not needed or wanted.

Cullen sighed.

He had no…talent for revelry; he had spent too many years in the chantry, too many years preparing for a life he had now willingly abandoned.

When it came to be a warm and open person, he made an excellent Templar.

There were no doubt many mages out tonight, most just wanting to relax before they were called on to help and seal the breach, they did not need to see the Knight-Captain of Kirkwall wandering around glaring at them, looking for any sign of corruption.

After his days under Uldred's tender mercies, he rarely let his guard down, if ever. He still remembered what had happened the one day he had taken something for himself, the evening he had shared with his beloved Solona…

After that, he never wanted to let his guard down again, he wouldn't…he couldn't.

A shiver ran down his spine.

What was happening out in the camp now was a world without barriers; he did not know how to navigate in such an environment. He had not let his barriers down once, not in the last ten years…

He did not even know how to start.

It was best if he did not even try.

With an annoyed snort he turned and headed back towards the chantry.

Let the soldiers enjoy the night.

He had work to do.

IOI

Ana blushed as Sera fell into a new fit of giggles, Varric, Solas, Blackwall, and Dorian surrounded her, Flissa's tavern was busy this fine evening, even the mages had caught the revelry bug and were celebrating.

The herald bowed her head.

"It isn't that funny, Sera," she said sheepishly.

The elf gave her a manic grin.

"You cracked that Avvar in the stones," she smirked, "It is funnier than you realize Herald."

Ana coughed, as she took another large swig of her ale, the drink burned its way down her throat. She was not typically a drinker, but tonight…she had been bought two drinks already, and was working on her third.

Flissa's ale wasn't the strongest, but drink enough of it, and it would still put you on your ass.

The herald was trying to keep her head, even if it was starting to buzz like a bee hive.

She hiccupped.

Sera giggled even more.

Ana lowered her eyes.

She wondered if it would have been better had she stayed in her cabin tonight. Varric had come to the tavern for a drink and had ended up finding his way to Sera's table. Vivienne, Cassandra, and Leliana had refused her invitation to join her. She thought she had seen Josephine earlier, but the Ambassador had been spending time with the visiting dignitaries, working even during a time of revelry. Iron Bull had already retired for the evening, his massive arm around a red haired chantry healer.

Ana tried her best not to smirk.

She suspected the girl would be walking very funny by tomorrow morning.

By the time she and the others had arrived Varric had already told Sera the tale of her fight with the Hand of Korth.

The elf had not stopped giggling since.

"Cracked his stones," she giggled, "Cracked em, hard yeah."

The elf smiled wolfishly.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you herald. You are a spot of all right you are."

Ana's blush darkened.

"It was **not **one of my most honorable moments," she shrugged, "But after getting my arm broken, and having a giant soddening Avvar about to cave my head in with a maul…"

She shook her head.

"I did not have time for finery, not if I wanted to save my life."

Blackwall snorted with amusement.

"You did what you had to," he said, "The bastard wanted a duel to the death that is what you gave him."

"After that last shot," Dorian quipped he likely was glad he was dead, probably was better than the pain."

Ana gave him a chagrinned look.

"Dorian…must you?"

"Merely teasing you my good woman," the Tevinter mage replied.

Ana shook her head.

Back when she had been training in Ostwick, Ser Geoffrey, her old mentor had tried to teach her the value of honor on the battlefield.

Did it exist, of course, he did not doubt that, but at the same time, a soldier's first duty in his eyes was to return home. If his life was in danger, a soldier should always be prepared to do what was necessary to ensure his safe return.

What she had done to the Hand of Korth…

Had she had to do it over again, she would have done that exact same thing.

She had accomplished her mission, the patrol was safe and she was still breathing.

What more could she have asked for?

Varric chuckled.

"I would not worry too much about it Kiddo," he said trying to salve her wounded honor.

"There is an old saying I have always liked, history is written by the victors. Me, I prefer to say that history is written by the story tellers. Think about this for a moment, had that Avvar prick killed you, do you think he would have gone back to his people and said that he killed a girl half his size and armed only with a sword and buckler, great Ancestor's no."

Varric's grin blossomed into a full smile.

"He probably would have said you were eight feet tall, with fire for hair and fangs like swords, wielding a lightning bolt spitting fel fire, anything to make him look more like the hero and all the better to make him look better to all those little Avvar."

Ana considered that, she supposed it was true. Varric had told her once that embellishment was the key to any good tale.

She doubted that the Avvar were above embellishing their victories any more than anyone else.

She giggled.

Either that or she had had way too much to drink this evening.

…Probably a bit of both.

Solas gave her that content little smile of his.

"Varric is not wrong, Ana," he said.

The dwarf grinned at the apostate.

"Thanks chuckles," he said.

Solas' elven ears twitched at Varric's use of the nickname.

Varric knew he did not like it that was why he used it.

"Those men and women whose lives you saved," he continued, "They may yet return to their families one day and all because of the battle you waged on their behalf."

The elf smiled.

"Do you think they care how you did it? Do you think any of them will weep for their jailor?"

Ana shook her head.

As always, Solas had a way of putting things in perspective for her. It was one of the reasons she welcomed the elf's council, the reason she called him one of the wisest people she had ever known.

Ana was more than grateful for his presence.

Sera giggled again.

"Crushed his stones," she murmured.

Ana rolled her eyes.

Very grateful.

It was at that moment that Lieutenant Harding and her scouts arrived. The dwarf took one look in the herald's direction and smiled.

"There she is," she exclaimed, "The hero of the day!"

Ana tried to sink down into her chair, trying to make herself small and invisible, it did not work.

Harding saddled up alongside her, putting her arm around her.

Another drink for the Herald," she exclaimed.

Ana hiccupped.

"That is kind of you lieutenant," she said.

"Please Your Worship," the dwarf said, "Call me Lace."

Ana blushed.

"That is very kind of you Lace, but…"

"Drinks all around," Harding exclaimed, "To honor our herald!"

The entire tavern cheered.

"**To the Herald!"** they exclaimed.

Ana accepted her new mug; she drank it quickly, perhaps too quickly.

She hiccupped again…

…Perhaps, just one more.

IOI

Cullen left the chantry.

He shivered at the biting cold, avoiding a group of happily chattering townsfolk and soldiers.

The Commander sighed.

He began his trek back to his tent, trying to stay out of everyone's way.

The streets were crowded tonight; he had ended up trying to take a short cut near the healer's cabin and Flissa's tavern. He turned quickly avoiding several singing revelers. He thought he had made good his escape when…

He collided with a young man.

Cullen blinked; the boy had appeared out of nowhere.

"Forgive me," he said, "I wasn't watching where I was going."

The boy did not look familiar, dirty leathers and blond hair; a wide brimmed hat hid most of his features.

He peered out at Cullen from beneath long bangs, his face looked sad, sad and apologetic.

The look in those eyes even gave Cullen pause.

"Can you help her?" the boy said, "I can't get her back to her cabin on my own."

Cullen looked around.

Her? He did not understand…he…

That is when he noticed the girl sitting in the snow behind the boy; He almost didn't recognize her out of her armor.

She smiled up at him, her cheeks red, her eyes glassy, a big…goofy grin on her face.

"Cullen," Ana giggled, "Hiiiii!"

She gave him an exaggerated wave.

The sight stopped the Commander in his tracks.

"Lady Ana?"

The herald giggled.

"Yup," she said.

"Are you drunk?"

The girl seemed to consider that for a minute.

"Zat…she said," raising one finger, "Isss a really, reallllly good question. I…"

She looked at her glowing hand, the mark sparked.

"Ooh," she purred, "Glowy."

Cullen felt cold dread in the pit of his stomach.

Oh Maker!

He…he could not leave her out here! If anyone found her? If anyone saw this!

No…he could not allow it. He had to do something.

"Come on," he said offering her his hand.

She smirked and took it, letting him pull her to her feet.

She staggered like a sailor in a storm.

"Whoa," she giggled, "Nice ground, good ground, don't flip over on me now."

The commander rolled his eyes.

_Maker give me strength._

He looked around, making sure no one else was watching.

No one was there.

He sighed with relief.

He was not sure what had made him stop, but he was grateful that he had, more than grateful.

Cullen pulled Ana tight against him, wrapping his arms around her.

She burrowed her face into his fur collar.

"Mmm," she purred, "Soooo fuzzy."

She smirked up at him.

"Sooo nice," she said.

She ran her finger down the front of his breast plate.

"You're soooo nice," she cooed.

He swallowed hard.

Oh Maker.

"Come with me, Milady," he said.

Her brow furrowed.

"Where are we going?"

"Your cabin."

"Oh…okay," she said.

She blinked.

"Cullen?" she murmured.

"Yes?"

"Where issss my cabin?"

The commander sighed.

"Follow me," he said, "I'll show you."

She almost fell before they took one step.

Realizing that this wouldn't work, he scooped her up in his arms. He was grateful she was dressed in a simple blouse, skirt and gloves.

If she had been in full armor, he likely would not have been able to reach her cabin before anyone noticed.

The herald was a symbol of the Inquisition; the soldiers could **not **see her like this.

It was bad for morale.

They would not understand.

He hoped that no one from the chantry saw this. If word got back to Chancellor Roderick…

…that could be bad for Ana.

He needed to protect her from herself, protect her honor.

What she was doing outside Flissa's in such a state in the first place?

He could not say.

All he knew was that he needed to get her out of here.

Fast.

IOI

Cole watched from the shadows. He watched as the man carried the girl back out into the snow.

The boy did his best to suppress a whimper; his hands were at his side clenched in impotent fists.

He had wanted to help. That is why he stopped the man in the first place, but when it had come time to aid him….

He had gotten scared.

He had retreated.

He had made the man forget.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now…now…

He just felt like a coward.

Cole sighed heavily.

He had been in the Tavern, watching the people drinking, talking, laughing…

He wanted to join them, to be a part of their world, but alas, he knew better.

He had had friends once, he had liked them…he had thought they liked him.

…Then…then the Templar had proven to them that he wasn't real.

Since then…he had been alone…all alone.

Cole hated that.

He had seen the girl slip out of the tavern, seen her stagger out the back. Cole had been watching her for a while now, since he had followed the inquisition soldiers back from the Templar fortress.

He was glad to be away from the Templars. They were all so angry.

He hated feeling their emotions.

He had watched the girl, the one they called the Herald closely. She tried to help, even when others did not want her to. He liked that. He wanted to be a part of that.

He…he wanted to help.

Yet, every time he was about to reveal himself to her, to them, he got scared, he always got scared.

He pulled his hat further down over his eyes.

He was a coward.

He missed Rhys. He missed Evangeline. He missed Wynne.

The boy shook his head.

They were gone, and even if they weren't…

They would not have him in their presence again.

He knew that much.

Cole looked down at one of his daggers; he stared into the shining blade, his fingers curled around the hilt.

A mistake, he realized.

Coming here had been a mistake.

He turned to go.

He would not need to wait long. The gates to the village were open; so many people were out celebrating.

So many that could not see him.

So many that would realize that he wasn't real.

He would return to the forest, he would watch. He would think.

Maybe there he would think of a way to introduce himself to these people.

To show them that he was a friend.

To show them that he was not to be feared.

Cole did not want their fear.

He wanted their trust; he wanted to be one of them.

He wanted to help.


	28. Dawn

**Chapter 28: Dawn**

"MMMMMPHHHH."

Slowly awareness returned to Ana Trevelyan, she had been lost in darkness, floating in a blissful world of peace.

She returned to the world in a far less pleasant state.

"Maker," she groaned into her pillow.

She buried her head beneath it, trying to will away the morning light, her tongue felt like a beach, her mouth tasted sour and foul. A headache burrowed through her brain like a sharpened spike.

She let out a shuddering breath, trying to keep her stomach from turning over.

What…what happened, she thought…?

She tried to remember the night before; it was not an easy challenge. She remembered going to Flissa's with the others, she remembered Harding buying her another drink and then…then…

Nothing.

She shuddered slightly.

No…not completely nothing…she remembered somewhat of what had happened. She remembered leaving Flissa's, she…she remembered someone finding her asking if she was okay…a boy? Then…and then… and…

"Good morning, Milady."

Ana gasped.

She sat up in bed with a start, her head throbbed from the move; sitting bolt upright with a hangover was not the smartest thing she had ever done that was for sure. She found herself staring into the weary eyes of Commander Cullen. He was sitting at her small table, a tumbler of water in his hand.

The herald winced…

_Had…had he been here… all night?_

_Had…had he stayed here…watching over her?_

_What __**had**__ happened last night?_

_Why was he here…now?_

_What had she done?_

Oh Maker, if anyone had seen him bring her in here, they were going to think she was such a tart! What would her father have said? What would her mother have said?

_**Anastasia! Have you no shame?!**_

Another advantage of Mother being in Ostwick and her being here she supposed.

She swallowed hard.

_**Oh Maker!**_

Cullen kept a respectful distance, given the fact he was still fully dressed she guessed that nothing…provocative had happened last night. That was probably for the best…she supposed.

She shifted in her bed, finally noticing her state of undress, just a shirt and her small clothes. It could have been worse she supposed.

Still he was here, with her, alone.

Her stomach twisted nervously.

"Co…Commander," she said in weak mousey voice, it was a far more shy voice than she ever had used in the past.

She hoped he wouldn't think less of her for using it.

"I…um…ah…what…what… are… are you doing here?" she asked.

The Commander sighed heavily. She could almost feel the disappointment radiating off of him, not that she blamed him.

"I…I found you outside Flissa's" he said, "Sitting in a snowbank. You…uh…you were quite…indisposed."

Ana winced.

_Indisposed? It was likely more polite an explanation then she deserved. He probably could have said drunk off her ass that was equally true._

"I brought you home," he continued, "I…I didn't want one of the common soldiers to find you."

She digested what he told her. So that was it. She understood why he had done it now. It would not exactly have been great for morale for one of the soldiers finding their herald passed out in a snowbank.

Instead, he had found her, brought her back here, and protected her.

Under normal circumstances she would have been happy, but this, the fact that it was Cullen, the look in his eyes.

No, she was not happy at all.

She knew that she should have been grateful, but all she could feel was guilty. She had wanted Cullen's respect, but now…now he had seen her at her worst.

She doubted that his regard for her would recover from this. Whatever she had gained with her accomplishments these past few months had likely been thrown out the window.

She grimaced.

_It was her own damn fault! _

Her cheeks turned fiery red, despite her pain, embarrassment overwhelming any physical discomfort.

She pulled her legs up closer to her chest, part of her wanted to shrink, just disappear. She would have gotten up and left went anywhere but here, but she feared her stomach would not allow it, between it and her head…well…she had no desire to throw up in front of him.

She was also tightening the Blanket around herself. It was a poor defense, but something was better than nothing.

She looked away afraid to meet his gaze. She expected the disappointed lecture to start any moment. How as Herald she needed to be better than one of the common soldiers. Maker knows she had been on the receiving end of plenty of those kind of lectures in her time, but this one would likely hurt more, because it would come from him, a man she…she…had come to…to…

Ana whimpered.

_So much for winning his respect._

He rose from the chair; it creaked under the weight of his armor.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She shrugged.

"My head has been better," she confessed meekly.

He brought her a cup of water. She took it with shaky hand.

"Drink this slowly," he said, "It will help."

She nodded and obeyed.

The Commander sat back down, So far he had not voiced his displeasure with her, which was surprising, had it been Cassandra, she likely would have been enduring a mighty tongue lashing right now.

He managed a weak smile.

"Enjoyable night?" he asked.

She might have giggled if not for the spike burning through her brain.

"Probably," she shrugged.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?"

Again she shrugged.

"People kept buying me drinks," she said, "Probably should have stopped after my second."

He snorted either with scorn or amusement, she could not tell which.

"Perhaps," he agreed.

The herald sighed.

The softness in his voice began affecting her; slowly her guard began to drop. Was he disappointed in her, probably, but it seemed he also…also…cared about her well-being.

Realizing that made her whole body warm, her heart flutter nervously, or perhaps that was just an after effect of last night too.

She could not say for certain.

"Commander?"

"Yes, Milady?"

"I...I did not make too big of a fool of myself last night, did I?"

Cullen snorted.

She feared what he was about to say.

"Nothing of note, Milady…"

He smiled slightly again.

"…Nothing to worry yourself about."

IOI

He had carried her back to the cabin as quickly and as quietly as he could, pulling up her hood to hide her face.

He had feared that a guard or two might be outside her cabin, he had no wish to explain this to them, fortunately, it seemed even they had decided to join the fun this evening.

That small favor made him sigh with relief.

Fortunately, the herald was more than cooperative in this endeavor, she called out to no one and let him do his duty without interruption, she snuggled deeper into his arms, purring softly like a newborn kitten. He had thought she had fallen asleep, or at the least passed out.

Either was better than having her be awake for this.

So far so good, he thought, take her inside, put her to bed, and then slip back out before anyone notices you are there.

That was the plan, quick and easy, or at least it should have been.

He had needed to put her down so that he could get at the door; she leaned against his shoulder, her warm breath tickling his neck, the smell of her hair distracting him further. Finally, his hands had stopped shaking enough that he had been able to get the door open, he scooped her up bridal style and carried her inside.

Made it, he thought, safe.

However it seemed the Maker had other ideas.

He wasn't sure what had awoken her then, the warmth of the cabin perhaps or the sound of his boots on the wooden floor, whatever it was, her blue eyes fluttered open.

She had smiled at him.

"Hiii there," she cooed happily. She reached up lightly with one hand and stroked his face.

"Milady," he had replied curtly, trying to ignore the feather soft pleasure of her gentle caress.

He lay her down on her bed, trying to ignore the hammering of his heart. He…this…this was the first to in a very long time that he had been…alone with a woman, even in Kirkwall, he had abstained from such liaisons. There had been times when the other officers had gone to the Blooming Rose for a little companionship. He had disapproved of such couplings, but had said nothing, recognizing the men's need for diversions. He remained behind on such nights, he had always remained behind.

Now here he was, with her, just the two of them here in her cabin.

Cullen sighed heavily.

Maker give me strength.

He forced his will to clamp down hard on those emotions. There was nothing romantic going on here, he was protecting the Inquisition. He was protecting the Lady Ana.

That was all that mattered.

He was protecting her.

She sat up, looking around, a silly smile on her face.

"Hey," she giggled, "I know thisss place."

"It is your cabin after all," he reminded her.

She said nothing, merely smiled and nodded.

He approached her nervously.

"You should lay back," he advised, "Try to get some sleep."

She swayed in place, likely not even having heard him.

He sighed and realized he would have to take matters into his own hands.

He approached her, lifting up her feet and removed her boots. She reached up and ruffled his hair with her left hand.

"You are realllly cute." She purred.

Cullen rolled his eyes, since he doubted that she would even remember this conversation tomorrow, he did not take much of what she said at face value.

He slipped off her cloak, and carried it and her boots back towards the door, setting them up to dry.

The Herald frowned and looked down; she began to fiddle with her vest.

Cullen paused.

"WH…what are you…um… doing?"

"Getting ready for bed," she said matter of factly.

She slipped off the leather vest leaving herself just in a light silk shirt. She struggled a bit, with the buttons on her skirt, but soon was able to roll out of that, as well. She lay back on the bed, raising her feet in the air, and quickly yanked down her wool leggings.

Cullen gasped and spun around, his heart hammering in his ears.

He was trying to be a gentleman, damn it.

Why was she making this so difficult?

He forced himself to glance sideways at her, she laid on her back her long pale legs in the air. She frowned as she inspected them. She ran a finger down her thigh.

He turned away quickly.

Holy Maker!

Was she doing this on purpose? Was she teasing him? If she was it was in very poor taste.

The herald he knew was not a tease. She was a serious young woman. Of course, given the amount that she had likely drank this evening; he suspected that she would not even remember this in the morning.

Thank the Maker for small favors.

If only she would just go to sleep he thought. Yet, there she was, inspecting her legs, stretching them out and touching them lightly. It was both platonic and arousing at the same time.

It was driving him mad.

"I hate my legs," she said flatly, "So white and pasty."

She glanced his way.

"What dooo you think? They're pretty bad, huh?"

Again he risked a slight look.

"They…um…they are fine Milady," he replied.

She smiled again.

"You are sweet," she said.

He clenched his fists and took a deep breath.

She was not going to make this easy, he realized that.

He called on the Maker for strength.

He would not do anything they would both regret tomorrow.

He had known Templars back in Kirkwall who would have seen this as an excellent opportunity, that bastard Alrik chief among them. The poor girl was in no shape to say no, had he decided that he…that he wanted…

No…he would not do that! He would not take advantage of her.

He had been raised better than that.

He pushed all thoughts of her from his mind, the softness of her skin, the smell of her hair, the pale legs, and the soft pouting pink lips.

He could not deny that he was intrigued, but intrigued did not mean that he would take advantage of this, no.

He would protect her honor, even from himself.

He approached her, she grinned.

He gently pushed her legs down. He idly noticed a small tattoo on her left ankle, a tiny rosebud with a thorny stem wrapped around her ankle.

He smiled slightly, a bit of youthful rebellion perhaps? He decided it was none of his business.

He covered her up.

She pouted.

"You need to get some sleep Milady," he advised, "We have a lot of work tomorrow."

"Work. Work. Work," she complained

"There is still the breach, after all?"

She snorted and looked out the window, the green yellow light filtering in the window.

"Stupid breach," she spat, "We'll close it soon enough."

He smiled at her determination.

"Yes, we will."

He tucked her in as one might a small child, she smiled up at him. Her hand took his and brought it to her face. She let his fingers trace her jaw.

He suppressed a shudder.

Her skin was softer than he had thought.

Perhaps even as soft as Lona's had been.

A pained sigh escaped his lips.

His poor dear Solona.

"Izz…is something wrong?" the herald asked, concern coloring her voice.

"It is nothing," he said with a sad sigh, "An old wound."

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"You're nice," she purred, "Nice people should not haaave old wounds."

He smiled wanly.

"That is kind of you to say."

She yawned and rolled over, her cheek pressing into the pillow.

He paused, watching her.

She was…so…so…

"Mm, seepy," she murmured.

He brushed a lock of red hair out of her eyes.

Adorable.

He stepped back with a heavy sigh, willing his heart to try and slow down.

He had been about to slip out of the cabin, when a large group of people stopped just outside.

The Commander cursed, not wanting anyone to see him leave.

Realizing that he would likely have to wait he had sat down at the small table, watching as the herald quickly drifted off to sleep, a small childlike sigh escaped her lips, as she finally surrendered to her stupor, slipping into unconsciousness.

Cullen leaned back in the chair, he likely would not get much sleep tonight, but that was okay.

He would not be the only person walking around blurry eyed tomorrow, he suspected.

He glanced at the sleeping herald, their lady, their best hope.

He sighed.

He did not blame her. Yes, she had made things a bit more difficult for him tonight, but he tried to remember that she was not just a symbol; she was a person as well.

She was no different than any other soldier in this Inquisition. She needed her diversions too.

She just needed to hide it better.

He sighed heavily, staring at the short red hair, listening to her coo softly in her sleep.

"What am I going to do with you?" he asked no one.

Sadly, no one was there to answer.

IOI

Cullen rose. Ana looked down self-consciously.

"If anyone asks," he said, "We were discussing strategy for the assault on the breach this morning. There is no point in feeding the rumor mill. Is there?"

"None at all," she agreed, sipping idly at her water.

The Commander nodded. She realized that he had not had to stay with her tonight; he could just as easily have left her to her own devices.

The fact that he had not, it was nice.

She appreciated that.

"I…um…I'll see you at the war council today," she said shyly.

"Indeed," he said with a curt nod, "Good day Milady Herald.

He glanced out the window, making sure the coast was clear, after that he slipped back out into the village.

"Good day…Cullen," she murmured.

Once he was gone, she flopped back down on the bed, the sudden movements made her head spin, she tried to keep her stomach from turning over, she closed her eyes and resisted.

What had happened last night had been sweet, but she doubted that he would do it again. She would need to be more careful from now on.

It was not just **her** honor at stake anymore. She had the whole Inquisition to think about. It might have been fine for the third daughter of House Trevelyan to act like a lush, but she was no longer just that girl.

Honor was important, especially now.

She needed to remember that.

She could never forget it.

Honor and reputation, that was all that mattered, Mother had told her once.

Honor needed to survive…

…and endure.


	29. The Breach

**Chapter 29: The Breach**

Once again the Inquisition ascended the snow covered mountains outside of Haven. Once more they marched on the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, marching on the Breach itself.

Unlike before, it was not simply a strike force of seekers and soldiers, this time, a might procession made its way up the mountain paths. Soldiers defended priests, visiting dignitaries, and the mages that were going to help the Herald of Andraste fulfill the promise made by the Inquisition all those months ago.

Today they were going to attempt what they had failed to do after the explosion at the Conclave; today…they were going to seal the breach.

Cassandras Pentaghast and Sister Leliana led the way, the Inquisition had begun with them releasing the Divine's directive, so it was only fitting that they stood at the Vanguard of this assault, behind them marched Ana, Solas and Varric, the herald was understandably quiet as they marched through the valley and up to the destroyed temple.

She kept looking at her hand, and the mark, flexing her fingers, they were still distant from the breach, but still the mark on her hand pulsed with energy, its power awakened by her mere presence so close to the massive tear in the fade.

Ana took a deep breath, trying to center herself. What happened in the next few hours were redefine what Thedas thought of the Inquisition, if they sealed the breach, they would likely be lauded as heroes, if they failed…

Ana had seen Chancellor Roderick following close behind Mother Giselle. Did he wish to see her fail today, or did he finally understand that sealing the rifts went beyond what was best for the chantry. As long as the breach remained, there was still a chance the nightmare future she had seen might yet come to pass.

Ana frowned, her blue eyes narrowing in determination.

_She would be damned before she let that happen. _

She did not look behind her, so many were making the journey with them. The Grand Enchanter had been true to her word, promising the herald her most powerful mages to make this attempt. They had needed to wait for the lyrium they had requested to arrive from Orzammar, but now that it was here, they were at last ready to begin.

Mother Giselle acted as leader for the faithful on this pilgrimage. The priests, seekers and Templars that had joined the Inquisition looked to her on matter of faith. Many of them sang the chant as they mounted the icy steps leading to the fallen temple.

Ana chose not to join in. So much was riding on her succeeding now where she had failed before. Both Solas and Cassandra seemed confident that with enough power behind her, the Herald would be able to seal the breach once and for all. The lyrium would bolster the mages, and in turn they would bolster her.

A cold shiver ran down Ana's spine.

_All these people, the faithful, the priests, and visiting nobles all wanted to see her perform what they thought to be a miracle, to undo what the Venatori had done with the assassination of the Most Holy._

The herald suppressed a whimper, just the thought of all those people watching, it was enough to give a person an extreme case of stage fright.

_She had failed before?_

_What if she __**failed **__again?_

When Josephine had first suggested that they include the priests and visiting nobles in this attempt that they allow them to bear witness to this event, she had tried to stop it, if something went wrong she did not think the Inquisition wanted hundreds of witnesses to her failure, it would be bad for morale. Alas, she had been out voted. Sister Leliana, Cullen, and Cassandra both had faith in her, and in the mages that they had gathered. They thought that her sealing the breach was a certainty.

Ana sighed.

She wished that she had **their** confidence.

Plus there was the matter of her little…slip during the celebration the other night. So far, no one had spoken about her faux pas outside Flissa's, or that Commander Cullen had spent the night in her cabin. It was a small village, either people were simply being polite or she had been luckier that she could have hoped. She suspected that Leliana might know what had happened, but so far the spymaster held her silence. A fact that the herald was grateful for…

As for Cullen well…

She pursed her lips.

She was not sure what was going on with Cullen right now.

She hated to admit it, but she had been avoiding the Commander since that night, beyond the war council, they had not spoken to each other once. She justified this by saying that they did not need to give the rumor mill more grist to use against them. If anyone thought that there was…_something_ going on between her and the Commander they might blame him if this attempt failed.

_She did not want that._

Cullen for the most part seemed to understand, which she was grateful for. He had not forced the issue, and so the two of them had gone back to being…well…whatever they had been before.

_It was better that way,_ she thought.

…_For the both of them._

IOI

Cullen said nothing as he led his men up the path to the temple ruins, his eyes darted back and forth, seeking any threat that might hamper their attempt today. The soldiers seemed far more relaxed than they had in days. The diversion of the celebration several days ago, seemed to have done the trick, everyone's confidence and strength seemed to have bolstered.

The Commander sighed.

Unfortunately, he could not say the same.

He felt…guilty for what had happened between him and the herald. He knew that he had done nothing wrong, but…

_Still that feeling was __**there**__, burning in the pit of his stomach…_

He…he did not like that.

He had done nothing. Why was this so troubling? Why did it feel like he had done something wrong? Then there was the herald herself…

He could not imagine what she was thinking right now. He tried to puzzle out what was going on with her, but he just could not do it.

Would Lady Ana blame him for what happened? He did not know.

She was avoiding him too, perhaps she was only doing it prevent idle gossip in the ranks. Soldiers, whether veterans or recruits, could be worse than a sowing circle with their rumors, he had learned that well training recruits in Kirkwall. Lady Ana understood what her position in the Inquisition meant, she clearly would not jeopardize it because he had decided to play hero.

The Commander shook his head.

Perhaps she was the wise one. Any attempt to speak with her would likely have resulted in embarrassment for them both. He had not helped her the other night for the sake of her gratitude; he had done it for the cause…

That…should have been reward enough.

It **should** have to be enough.

Yet…in his weaker moments, he found himself thinking about her, not the Herald of Andraste, but her. He still could see her in his mind's eye, that soft dreamy, far off expression, those long pale legs, the soft pouting lips.

He shuddered, yet it had nothing to do with the cold.

It…it had been long time since he had thought about a woman in that way. Lady Ana was young, he did not doubt that, but it was clear that she was more than a simple girl…

She…she was most definitely a woman.

He probably should have just laid her on the bed that night and left, not bothered talking to her, or helping her out of her boots and cloak, but he had, and now…here he was.

Cullen sighed.

It was stupid he realized, yet he had no defense against his heart, what he was feeling at this very moment.

"So," he heard a voice beside him, "You think she can do it?"

He glanced beside him; Dorian of House Pavus was there. The mage idly twirled his mustache as he glanced at the back of the Herald.

Cullen frowned.

He made no bones about the fact that he did not care for the Tevinter mage. He did not like how he had invited himself into the Inquisition, and he certainly did not like how the man had wormed his way into the Herald's affections.

Lady Ana was a good woman, a strong one, yet in this he did not entirely trust her judgment. Dorian had been too close to the Magister who had tried to enslave the mages, and they only had his word that he had not been a part of that.

For Cullen, his word was not enough.

He did not trust the mage, and he certainly did not trust her around the herald.

He still remembered when the mage forced his way into the war council, flattering her while at the same time insisting that he was going to join.

She had smiled at his bravado.

"There is no one else I would rather be stuck in time with," she had said.

"Me too," he agreed, "But let's not be in a hurry to get stuck again, shall we?"

Cullen had not liked that, that easy comradery.

It made him uneasy.

He glanced at the mage, for a man who had pledged himself to the cause; he seemed to have a lot of doubt about today.

"The herald will do what she can," he answered, "That is all we can expect of her."

"Of course," Dorian agreed, "I just thinking we should have not turned this affair into a spectacle. If everything works out, it will be grand, but if something unexpected occurs…"

The mage frowned.

"Magic is not the most reliable of mistresses, and this breach is likely the most unstable result of magic I have ever seen."

The Commander frowned.

The Herald had made a similar argument, but the war council had dismissed it as nerves or her humility showing through again. Hearing the same concern from the mage, it gave credence to what she had thought.

If this attempt failed…?

No, he refused to believe that, the herald did not need their doubts right now, she needed their support.

She would succeed, he did not doubt that, after everything she had faced to gain the mage's support, how could she not?

"She will not fail," Cullen said quietly, "I have faith in her."

Dorian's smiled at his words.

"Excellent, it is nice to know that I am not alone in my faith in our dear herald."

Cullen suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

Andraste save him, he did not like Dorian.

He did not like him at all.

IOI

Varric made his way up alongside Ana, a wide grin spread across his dwarven face.

He lived for such events, the times that people wanted to know about, he would likely get a full chapter out of this procession alone.

He looked up at their herald, she seemed a little nervous, but determined as well.

He decided to try and cheer her up.

"So what are you going to do after you seal the breach?" he asked.

The girl sighed.

"Besides not drink," she quipped.

The dwarf chuckled.

"Besides that."

Ana sighed again.

"We are getting a little ahead of ourselves aren't we?" she warned, "I haven't sealed the breach, yet, and even if I do…there is still so much left to do."

Varric gave her an understanding smile.

"You will do your best Kiddo that is all we can expect of you," he said, "Chuckles seems to think that the only reason you did not succeed last time was because you did not have enough power…"

Varric chuckled.

"With all these mages here, you shouldn't have any problems this time. You have the power, now you just need to make it work…no pressure."

She rolled her eyes.

"You make it all sound so easy."

"It is for me," he smirked, "I just have to sit back and watch you work. Don't worry though, anything goes wrong, I'll blame it on Venatori sabotage, readers eat that shit up."

The Herald glared at him; clearly she did not understand the value of a good antagonist.

Ana shook her head.

"UGH," she spat, accelerating away from him.

"What?" Varric said with a shrug.

She did not respond. She just kept on walking.

Varric snorted.

Poor kid, she was acting more and more like the Seeker every day.

He did not see that as a good thing.

Soon they found themselves in the ruined courtyard of the temple. Varric shook his head. The Inquisition had removed the bodies months ago, still he could not get the image of those burned corpses out of his head, and how their bodies had been twisted in poses of extreme agony.

They could not let something like that happen again. They needed to seal the breach, unfortunately, they could not do it.

Only Ana had the power.

They just had to have faith in her, her and Solas, and the mages they had gathered. Leliana and the Seeker led them down the steps into the remains of what had been the temple itself. Again they found themselves surrounded by whatever fel magic the Venatori had used to first open the breach, that…and the scattered shards of red lyrium.

He shook his head at the sight of the red crystal, even if he had not heard Ana's tale about that dark future…

He still would want to see every last piece of the shit destroyed.

Varric tried to give the red stuff a wide birth. He still heard Knight-Commander Meredith screaming in his nightmares. He would not wish the iron lady's fate on anyone.

That was why they had to destroy it. Bartrand had been a fool to bring that damned idol out of the deep roads all those years ago. Now they found themselves again caught up in the pull of red lyrium.

Varric sighed.

He hoped the Inquisition would prove stronger than his brother or Knight-Commander Meredith had been.

…For all their sakes.

Ana stepped away from the others, she walked into the center of the ruin, above her; the massive breach swirled like a whirlpool.

Ana swallowed hard, he could see her hands clenching nervously.

Solas and Cassandra joined her, as the mages took up position around her, arranging themselves so that they could form a glyph with the herald at its center, from there, she would be able to draw on their magic, and focus it into the mark.

Or so…Solas claimed.

Varric took a spot near Commander Cullen, Curly looked as nervous as he felt.

They would likely get only one shot at this.

Hopefully, that would be enough.

IOI

"Mages, the time has come."

Solas' words made Ana look up into the heart of the breach, to look at the floating wreckage of the temple, and the islands of the fade drifting serenely on the other side.

Maker…it was so big! How was she supposed to close something like that?!

This wasn't like the fade rifts; this was a whole different class…entirely.

She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

_It was __**now**__ or __**never.**_

Solas continued to the direct the mages, encouraging them with his words.

"Focus your power through the herald," he said, "let it flow into her mark, and then into the breach."

He turned to her then, giving her a reassuring smile.

He had done all he could, now it was time for her to do her part.

She looked down at the mark on her hand, the last time she had stood here; they had been fighting a pride demon. She had stabilized the breach but had not closed it. It had been a partial victory at best.

She did not have that option this time. Not with so many watching, no this time she could not accept half a victory.

She either went all the way, or not at all.

The mark on her hand crackled energetically, it was already responding to the magic in play here. She looked down at the glowing wound.

She sighed.

_Here goes nothing._

She shot her hand skyward. Magic pulsed from the mark, rising higher and higher into the sky.

It took it a few moments to reach the breach, but that was not surprising considering how high up it was. It was…

Ana gasped.

She had made contact.

Oh Maker!

What a mess!

Through the mark, she was connected with the breach, what she saw inside it made her ill. The fade rifts were easy by comparison, find a loose thread and pull; the breach was an entirely different animal.

It was…it felt like a…a… it was a mass of knots, knots upon knots, untie one, and your actions caused two more. She could see the mess with her mind's eye.

It almost made her whimper with frustration.

How was she supposed to fix this, much less close it?

She had no idea, but that did not matter.

She got to work.

She reached out with her mind, reaching for the first knot, then the second, slowly…things began to take shape, but it was tiring, oh so tiring,

It felt like she was tugging on the edge of the world, the magic of the fade draining her strength, it was starting to make her feel light headed, she feared that she would pass out again.

It was then that the mages began to aid her…

Ana's eyes flew open.

It…it was…

Oh Maker!

She had no words.

It…it was glorious.

She could feel the magic the mages offered, but it was more than that.

It wasn't just their power; it was them, their lives, and their souls, their…everything.

Ana gasped.

She was no longer alone. The task no longer felt so daunting. The mages gave themselves to her, and in return, she gave herself to them.

Dozens of Anas now worked inside the breach, helping each other untangle knots, offering strength when one faltered. She was everywhere at once, and it was only getting better.

She smiled slightly.

More mages entered the breach with her, and then more…and more still!

She giggled.

She felt echoes of them in her mind. Their loves, their fears, and their hopes, she felt Solas warm and confident, she felt Shamus…his love for his Bernadette and their newborn child. She felt Fiona…she felt…

_I'm being recalled to Weisshaupt, for good._

_The chances of a Grey Warden conceiving are not very large, yet here he is. Amazing isn't it?_

_I want him to be fully human._

_I want him to have a fresh start._

Ana whimpered.

Those thoughts, those emotions passed over her like a summer rain, they were so strong and yet they were gone just as quickly.

_Had those been Fiona's thoughts, her feelings…or one of the others…_

_She could not say._

They were not hers, and yet they were hers.

It was all very confusing.

She let those thoughts go, and focused on the breach. All of them, all of her, now focused on the breach. They worked together and as one.

They attacked the mess with no hesitation.

The breach did not seem so daunting anymore.

Not as long as she was not alone.

Not as long as they were one!

IOI

Cullen watched all this with his heart in his throat.

He saw Ana call on the mark, reach out to the breach, and then…then…

The mages had gotten involved.

It had changed everything.

Ana was no longer standing under the breach, she was floating, several meters above the ground, the glow that had consumed her hand had spread to her entire body. She glowed like a star as she let the magic flow back into the breach.

It was an amazing sight.

Above them the clouds around the breach swirled wildly. The rubble from the temple vanished into its surface.

It seemed that a storm might form, that the magic might go out of control, but then he looked back down upon the herald, their savior.

She almost seemed to be laughing within the cocoon of light.

The light pulsed brighter.

The Cloud cover blocked all view of the fade, thunder rumbled overhead but no rain came.

Cullen tried to catch Cassandra's eye, but the Seeker did not turn, her full attention was focused on the Herald, on the breach.

Then as suddenly as it began, Lady Ana closed her fist, and pulled, the mages gasped as they gripped their staves tighter.

Thunder rumbled overhead, loudly, the light that limed the herald faded. She floated back to the ground; she sagged and fell to her knees, but did not pass out.

Cullen looked up into the sky.

The clouds that had covered the breach were starting to dissipate.

He gasped at the sight.

All around him… it rose…it was like a roar, a battle cry that swept over the temple ruins, it started low but grew in intensity.

It was not the sound of anger, fear, or hatred.

It was a sigh of relief and of joy.

Blue sky shown through the gray clouds, all traces of the eerie yellow green light was gone.

Solas and Cassandra ran to the herald helping her to her feet, she smiled weakly as she looked up into the sky.

The Lady Ana had done it!

The breach was sealed.


	30. The Elder One

**A/N: I would like to thank all of you for favoriting this story, and Making "The Herald of What?!" one of my most successful projects to date. Now we come into one of the more exciting parts of the story, I hope you all are ready.**

**DG**

**Chapter 30: The Elder One**

Leliana sat quietly within her quarters inside the Haven chantry. Even though they were victorious, even though small celebrations were going on outside, she knew that she could not attend.

There was always work to be done.

The breach was closed, that was good, but it was only a victory in a single battle…

…The war was only just beginning.

She prepared missives to leave in the morning; the ravens would be flying throughout Ferelden and Orlais, informing the powerful of the Inquisition's success. There were also several encoded missives that needed to go out, key agents needed to be moved into position or moved to new ones. The Inquisition's allies needed to be prepared made ready to make their move; they would be elevated, while several dangerous foes needed to be neutralized before the movement could continue further.

It was a dance the spymaster knew well. It was a game she had been playing most of her adult life…

…and she was very, very good at it.

The open hand approach of the Inquisition was good, but sometimes subtlety was called for. A word whispered in the right or wrong ear. Papers disappearing, or appearing where they could do the most damage, even a fatal mugging in a side street of Val Royeaux could mean the difference between life and death for hundreds of innocent people.

Leliana tried her best to balance the scales as best she could; the needs of the many had to be looked out for.

Her old friend Elissa might not have approved, but she likely would have understood the value. What would have happened if Arl Howe had had a terminal case of indigestion before the Blight had begun…?

Her friend the Queen's life would have been very different to be sure.

Of course, then, Elissa would never have become Queen would she? She never would have met Alistair? Maybe the Blight would still be raging. It was hard to say. All Leliana could do was what she thought was right, and if their were consequences she would be the one to pay them.

She was fine with that.

These were matters that she often left out of the war council, the other members counted on her to make sure their shadow war continued without a hitch. Leliana recognized the value of having a conscience in these dark times, but she also recognized the value of eliminating a target before it could turn into a full blown problem.

The herald would likely not approve, but that is why she did not need to know, plausible deniability was a wonderful thing, it shielded the movement like a magic cloak.

Sometimes it was necessary to tie up some…loose ends. Justinia had always understood that and had never asked after her tasks, she trusted her…

Leliana smiled wanly.

It was pleasing that the herald was smart enough to do the same.

"Sister?" a shy voice said from the door way.

She looked up as one of her agents entered, a young scout named Stephen.

"Yes?" she replied.

The boy fidgeted.

"Sister, we have lost contact with our scouts at the mouth of the valley, they have not reported in for over an hour."

Leliana frowned.

"Did we receive any word of a delay? The path through the mountains can be treacherous at night?"

"I don't believe so sister," the boy responded, "It would be one thing if only one scout had not reported in, but we have heard nothing from **all** five of them. The whole path has just gone dark."

Leliana frowned, her eyes narrowed.

Stephen was a good agent; he was not prone to overreacting, if their agents were not reporting in…?

"Send word immediately," she ordered, "Pull everyone back to Haven, advise them to set up any traps along the way that will not slow them down."

"Yes sister, I will send word immediately."

Leliana nodded, the boy was a good agent. He knew the value of when to ask questions and when it was necessary simply to obey.

These, if she was not wrong, was one of those obeying times.

He left without further word; speed was their best ally now.

The spymaster rose from her chair.

_I need to find Cullen and Cassandra, Haven needs to be prepared._

She scooped up her bow and quiver.

Everyone needed to be made ready, she thought.

It sounded like they had company coming.

IOI

The night sky around Haven was filled with light and laughter.

Ana Trevelyan stayed apart from most of it. After all the worrying she had done early in the day, it did her heart good to see the soldiers able to lay down their burden, she had done what they had asked of her, and the Inquisition had fulfilled its promise.

The breach…was closed.

She was still clad in her full armor. She had yet to go and change since their return. Had she retired she might have ended sleeping for the next two days. She felt weary from her exertions at the temple. Even with the mages help, sealing the breach had been taxing physically, she tried to explain what it had felt like to Solas, her mind divided in so many places at once, but even that seemed like too small an explanation, it was likely trying to describe sound to a person who had been born deaf.

Perhaps, there was no way to explain it.

Regardless, the celebrations had begun no sooner than they had reached Haven, the sky over the temple of sacred ashes still looked bad, but at least it appeared solid, no fade-light showed down on them tonight, no islands floated overhead.

Ana smiled

If that was not a reason to celebrate she did not know what was?

She might feel too tired to participate, but that did not mean that she felt others could not?

No, she would not ask that of her allies.

The Herald was content to sit back and watch the joy and celebration going on around her. Even the most sullen of the Inquisition's members could not deny the joy that was in the air tonight. People were dancing while minstrels played in the streets. From Flissa's she could hear the distant tones of a bawdy drinking song. Ladies pulled their young men into tight embraces, offering them deep and passionate kisses.

Ana hated to admit it, but she felt a little jealous of those girls.

She blushed slightly.

Perhaps she needed to do something to change that.

The sound of boot steps behind her drew her attention.

Cassandra came down the path to stand at her side. The two women looked up at the spot where the breach once swirled.

Both were pleased with their success.

"Solas has confirmed our victory," the Seeker said, "The sky is scarred, but it is stable, it will heal in time."

"Good to know," Ana replied with a happy sigh.

The warrior woman gave her student a true smile, a rare thing from Cassandra Pentaghast.

"It is you that has brought us this victory, Ana," she said, "You should be proud."

The herald shook her head.

"It wasn't just me," she said, "the inquisition has been working for this for months. I might have done the job, but it is something we have all worked for. It wasn't easy, but it was definitely worth it."

The Seeker snorted with amusement.

"Your humility does you credit Herald, but…"

The sound of chantry bells interrupted her. Cassandra and Ana turned with surprise. Several scouts were running down the streets shouting with alarm.

The music stopped, joy quickly turned to confusion, and still the chantry bells rang, not in celebration, but in the frantic sound of alarm.

It was then that everyone in the village saw it, a few lights on the horizon, lights that quickly expanded into something more…

Ana blinked. She could not believe her eyes, so many tiny approaching lights…

Torches?

More pilgrims arriving, possible, but unlikely, the paths were not safe at night, and she could not imagine so many arriving at such a late hour, only an army would…

She felt her stomach fall…

An army it was the only thing it could be, not just dozens of torches but hundreds, maybe a thousand.

The Herald drew her sword, all thought of rest forgotten.

Cassandra drew her blade as well; the two women quickly pushed their way through the confused crowd. Soldiers were running back and forth gathering their weapons. Their fears raised by the ringing of the bells. They found Dorian and Sera among the crowd, the two joined them. Ana had spotted Varric, but he was caught behind a group of retreating townsfolk.

Ana made for the dwarf.

"Make a hole!" she shouted.

The people parted without resistance before her command. Varric pushed his way though, the dwarf looked concerned.

"What's going on, Kiddo?" he asked.

"A very good question master dwarf," she replied, "let's get to the gates and find out."

The two of them hurried to catch up with Cassandra and the others.

Whatever was going on…?

It was clearly something big…

…and bad.

IOI

The group caught up with Cassandra at the gates, she had been joined by Leliana, Cullen and Josephine.

The Commander gave the herald a worried look.

It did nothing to bolster her confidence.

"We lost contact with the scouts watching the entrance to the valley," the spymaster said, "I thought we might have more time to prepare, but…"

Ambassador Montilyet looked around nervously, her tanned face paler than usual.

Ana did not blame her, the woman was no warrior.

Cullen turned to Leliana.

"Have we identified the enemy yet? What banner are they flying?"

"My scouts have seen none," the spymaster replied.

Cullen's eyes narrowed.

"None, but how could that be…? We need…"

The sound of shouting outside the gates drew Ana's attention; Cullen had had the doors sealed as soon as he had gotten the first warning from Leliana. There was a flash of light, followed by several pained cries.

"Is anyone left outside?" she asked the Commander.

"There should not be," he replied, "The scouts were sheparding our people back after the first warning we…."

There was a heavy pounding on the door; the warriors all drew their weapons.

The pounding ceased.

Ana swallowed hard.

What in Andraste's name was going on out there?!

"Open the door," a young scared sounding voice cried out from the other side, "Please…I cannot enter if you do not open the doors."

Ana looked up at one of the guard towers, the guard signaled that it appeared safe.

Ana motioned to the gate guard, he did not question her decision.

He opened the doors.

A heavy armored figure fell through the opening, startling everyone. It was followed shortly by a young man, in dirty leathers and a large wide brimmed hat.

Ana blinked.

Had…had she seen this boy before…?

He looked so familiar.

She advanced on him; he was out of breath, his hands stained red with blood.

It was then that she got a good look at the armored dead body before her.

Bile rose in her throat.

She had seen that armor before, not here, but back in Redcliffe…

Back in the Year 9:42 Dragon!

The man was a Venatori soldier…a scout!

She blinked with disbelief.

How could the Venatori have mustered an army so quickly? How could they have landed without the Fereldan army noticing?"

She looked at the terrified boy.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

He gave her a frightened look.

"I'm…I'm Cole," he gasped, "I came here to warn you…to help. The Templars…the Templars…"

Cullen's eyes flashed with rage.

"Templars?" he growled, "Is this the Lord Seeker's response to our alliance with the mages, to attack blindly? Can't he see the sky? Doesn't he recognize that the danger has passed?"

The boy...Cole shook his head.

"The Lord Seeker is not behind this," he wheezed, "I've heard them, seen the anger in their thoughts, the Red Templars are here with the Elder One."

Cole shivered with fear.

He looked at Ana.

"He is angry that you stole his mages."

Ana shook her head, what the boy was saying…

The Elder On was here. The Templars and the Venatori…they were fighting together…as **allies**?

It seemed impossible to believe.

"Commander! Commander!"

An Inquisition lieutenant pushed his way through the soldiers. Cullen turned to meet him. The man held out a spyglass.

"You are going to want to see this ser, the ridge just before the tree line."

Cullen took the spyglass and looked out. The light from the Templars' torches made seeing even at this time of night extremely easy.

The Commander's eyes narrowed.

He handed the spyglass to Ana, and pointed.

She saw what he had seen.

An intense looking man in Templar issue armor, he had a cruel grin on his face, an almost manic look. It was look of pure hatred, hatred and hunger.

She shuddered; even from here she could see the rosy glint in his eyes. The few Templars she could see did not look better, crimson light emerged from their visors, bright enough to even see in the darkness, shards of red crystal poked out of their armor, red lyrium growing right out of their skin.

Ana winced.

Despite their best efforts…

…The nightmare of 9:42 had come to Haven.

The Elder one was here!

"That is Samson," she heard Cullen say with no small amount of anger; "I should not be surprised."

She blinked.

Wait…what was that?

Ana saw a new shape emerge from the shadows, at first she did not know what to make of it, but then it stepped fully into the torchlight, and she...she…

She gasped.

Holy Maker!

It was tall, taller than the largest Templar, though skeletally thin. Torn robes that might have been fine once did nothing to hide its emaciated frame. Arms too long to be human gestured to the advancing soldiers, long clawed fingers moved with a surety that showed this…this…whatever it was, was no mere monster.

Then Ana looked upon its face.

…Even from here, the sight made her shudder.

The features were human…mostly. The face might even have been considered handsome once, now it was a mere shadow, puckered and diseased at the corners. Bony shapes cut through the hairless scalp.

Those cold eyes seemed to look her way, which was impossible, he…it could not know she was watching from this distance.

That cold gaze bore into her; it seemed to see inside of her. It cut her to her very soul.

She would remember those eyes the rest of her days.

They promised vengeance, agony, and…and…

She shuddered.

… Eternal damnation.

"Great Ancestors!"

She looked over at Varric; he had grabbed a second spyglass. He had also seen the monstrous being.

All color had drained from the dwarf's face. He looked like he had just woken from a nightmare.

Or just found himself inside one.

"It can't be," he murmured, "It can't…"

"What," she demanded.

"He **is** dead. He has to be **dead!"**

"**Varric what is it?"**

"I…"

Cassandra pushed he way past the herald and grabbed the dwarf by his duster coat.

"Damn you dwarf," she growled, "ANSWER THE HERALD! SPEAK!"

Varric swallowed hard.

"He is the Elder One…he has to be."

"WHO IS?" the Seeker growled.

Varric almost whimpered, he feared no man, but this was not a man.

It had not been for a very long time.

When he spoke, Cassandra's eyes widened. He said only one word, a word that made no sense to Ana…a name she thought she recognized but could not remember from where…

Just one name…

His name.

_Corypheus._

Cole shuddered at Ana's feet; he knew more about what they faced.

He swallowed hard.

"He is very angry that you took his mages," the boy murmured.

"VERY angry."

IOI

In the valley, just before the tree line, the Elder One glared at tiny defiant Haven. Once again the barbarians of the south sought to deny him what was rightfully his.

He would not have it.

They would answer for their insolence.

His soldiers marched past silently, only the sound of their armor clicking as they made their way towards the target, that and the gentle song, the call of the red lyrium.

The Elder one smiled.

This was the song of **his **world, the song of the happy slave.

He would have been pleased, but this farce had gone on too long, these meddlers had interfered in his plans for the last time.

Now it was time to end them.

He clutched his powerful hands, imagining finding the pretender under his mercies.

It would happen soon, how could it not?

No one denied the will of a god for long.

"Find the pretender," he purred in a cultured voice, "Bring the harlot to me."

At his side, Samson nodded.

The Elder One sneered at the village, the collection of disbelievers and blasphemers; they would soon learn the power of his anger, the rage of **their** one true god. Though they would not live to tell the tale however….

_He was __**not **__in a forgiving mood._

"Burn this place," he ordered, "Slay them all."

The first screams reached his ears. The first flashes of light.

A ripple of pleasure ran through him.

_It __**was**__ time._

_It __**had **__begun._

Let this world and the next…beware.


	31. The Forge

**A/N: Well here it comes folks, the big fight. Let's get ready to rumble!**

**Chapter 31: The Forge**

"Haven is no Fortress."

Cullen's words were proving more than true. Ana and her allies moved quickly down the length of the barricades as more and more enemy troops seemed to flow over the walls. Inquisition soldiers were engaging them, but this fight was far from fair. Varric had described to Ana the effects of red lyrium, what it had done to the Knight-Commander of Kirkwall, what they saw here was worse than that, perhaps almost as bad as what she had seen in future Redcliffe.

These were not men and women…**not** anymore, by taking this new form of lyrium they had left their humanity behind. The red crystal did more than simply grow out of their bodies; it was changing them, corrupting them. Muscles swelled, long crystal claws extending from fingertips, and blasts of dark energy were fired from upraised palms.

The Herald attacked a Templar archer, a girl or a young man given the size of her opponent. Ana bashed the girl with her shield, knocking her to the ground. The Templar's helm came off. The face beneath it was something out of nightmares.

Eyes wept blood, black hair hung in a stringy mass upon her head. Her gray skin was tight and almost translucent against her slowly growing skull. Crystalline horns pushed their way through her forehead and chin, eyes that may have once been brown, now glowed bright red, glowed with both magic and hate.

The girl shrieked like a fade demon, a high pitched squeal that made even the most seasoned of soldiers flinch.

"Shut up," the herald spat angrily as her blade came down, the Templar did not even try to dodge.

Ana beheaded her, ending her suffering, but sadly that was only the beginning. More and more Templars kept flowing over the barricades.

The Herald growled with frustration.

_They could not win this._

_It was only a matter of time. _

The Inquisition had relied on its isolation here in the mountains as well as their reputation to protect them; alas…that was no longer the case.

The enemy was **here**, they had marched through the mountain path and they cared nothing for the deeds of the past.

The Red Templars had come here to destroy Haven, and the Inquisition with it.

Ana felt fury bubbling up in her breast.

They would not make it easy for the bastards.

"Make them work for it, Cullen had said.

_She intended to do just that. _

The Commander was right; they needed to hit the enemy hard. Trebuchets fired while mages rained down fire and lightning upon the advancing army. Cullen had given the former rebels leave to engage the enemy without fear of reprisal. These people were no longer his brothers and sisters. They no longer cared for the Maker or Thedas, if they ever had in the first place.

All that mattered to them was their lyrium, and what they needed to do to get it.

Two more leapt over the barricade in front of her, growling like a pair of hungry wolves. Two arrows pierced the eye slots of their helmets; they fell with barely a sound.

"UHG!" she heard a familiar sounding voice say, "Ugly bastards aren't they, hope you like the taste of arrow in your gobs. Makes me glad that we did not ally with these pieces of shite, don't you agree Herald?"

Ana did not answer Sera, she was too busy dodging an attack by…well…she wasn't sure what it was, it wore a Templar helm, but its upper body had swollen up like a tick about to pop.

She lunged in to attack it, but the creature back pedaled. It reached out for her, its long fingers questing for her throat.

A magic bolt struck the creature in the chest, a wave of intense cold washed over it, freezing the monster solid.

Ana bashed it with her shield, shattering it, making sure that it would not be able to get up again.

She gave a grateful nod to her savior. Dorian merely shrugged.

"I will say this about you southerners," he exclaimed, "You do know how to throw a party!"

A fatalistic giggle came to Ana's lips, nerves and anger combining to merely make her go berserk with rage or terror.

She did her best to hold those emotions in check.

These Red Templars did not fight like their rebel brothers in the Hinterlands. Those Templars at least used their abilities; these seemed more like animals or darkspawn. They knew how to use their weapons but that was it, there was little strategy here, just come over the walls and attack.

The herald frowned.

Unfortunately, they had the numbers to make such a tactic work. More and more of the red bastards continued to flow into the valley. The Inquisition was fighting like mad, but it was only a matter of time until they were overwhelmed.

They needed to do something drastic.

"Your Worship?"

She turned to the commander of one of the trebuchets, he shouted for her to go and check on the crew manning the one farther south, it had stopped firing.

Leaving a dozen soldiers in her wake to hold the position here, she and her allies ran. They arrived to find the southern trebuchet under heavy attack. The guards trusted to protect it lay dead in the snow, only a few Inquisition soldiers remained.

The gunner noticed her.

"HELP US MILADY!" he shouted, "WE HAVE A PLAN BUT WE NEED MORE TIME!"

She nodded to the man; time was something that she could give.

The herald and her allies waded into the enemy. Ana struck viciously, the bodies of many Inquisition soldiers surrounded the trebuchet, so many dead and wounded…

She would see the bastards answer for every one of those lives.

Varric and Cassandra had finally caught up with them, both of them attacking with near ruthless abandon. Varric likely out of experience over what had happened in Kirkwall, and Cassandra who…well the Seeker always fought viciously against her enemies.

Ana glanced up at the trebuchet, the crew manning it was no longer targeting the Templars, she was about to ask why when the siege weapon finally fired. Another wave of enemies swept over the wall, the Templars finally overwhelmed the gunner and his men, but they had arrived too late. The weapon struck high on one of the southern peaks. A loud rumble shook the valley.

Ana glanced up first in surprise then in savage joy, the gunner in charge of that trebuchet had been a genius.

She would make sure that he was honored for his sacrifice.

The entire southern peak began to slide down the mountain, a massive wall of snow. It roared like a lion, moving like a thing alive, a great white wall of death!

Templar torches were doused, monstrous horrors that had once been men and women were struck head on by the wall of snow, it washed them away like a great flood. Some, not so lost in the embrace of the lyrium screamed and tried to run, but they were quickly overtaken.

The sight made the Red Templars engaging the Inquisition pause in disbelief.

It was all that the defenders needed.

They surged forward, counter attacking.

Red Templars began to fall. Cut off from their advancing allies, they became easy prey.

The monsters began to retreat, not an orderly withdrawal, but a full on flight.

A cheer rang out from the defenders.

Inquisition battle horns sang out, soldiers roared. Behind the wall, the armies of the faithful began to form up, to push the enemy back, slaughtering Red Templars to slow to escape with their allies. Swords were banged loudly against shields, rallying courage and preparing for a charge of their own.

They would push the bastards out of Haven, and then out of the valley. They would…

A terrifying roar split the sky.

All eyes went to the sky…in that moment the courage of the defenders died.

A great black shape moved through the night sky, too large to be any bird.

It dove at the defenders position.

Ana gasped.

"SCATTER!" she shouted out, some obeyed, but others were too slow.

Fire, hot red flames, sprayed down upon them. The trebuchet that had buried so many Red Templars exploded, filling the air with deadly shrapnel. Pots of oil caught as well, bursting violently on the defenders.

The cries of the dying filled the valley.

The herald was knocked down; she saw the great black shape rise back up into the sky and bank back towards the village. It dove again, this time spraying flame down upon the village itself.

The creature was massive, black scaled, but…not appearing truly alive! In the light of the inferno it had created she got a good look at the beast. Its wings were torn; its body seemed to be rotting despite being alive.

Ana paled.

She had only seen one high dragon, before, on the Stormcoast months ago, but that had been at a safe distance, a very far safe distance…this…this was too close.

She was suddenly being pulled back to her feet; her head was ringing from the explosions going on around them. Cassandra was shouting at her but she could not hear. The Seeker was dragging her away from the fighting.

The intent was clear.

RETREAT!

RETREAT!

FALL BACK!

Ana spotted Master Harritt struggling with the door to his forge; it was blocked by flaming debris. She broke away from the Seeker and came to his aid. Varric, Dorian, and several soldiers joined her, helping the blacksmith grab what he could as he retreated from his burning forge.

Again Red Templars surged over the walls, but this time there was no defenders to stop them, they slaughtered the retreating soldiers. Hungry cries of victory went up from the monsters, even as the dragon wheeled in the sky above them.

Ana did what she could to slow them to aid her people. She saved a young Inquisition soldier named Lysette; a former Templar who had survived the Conclave, the girl joined them helping her save who they could as they ran down the village's southern path. Flissa, Adan, Minaeve, Quartermaster Threnn, even that cheap bastard Seggritt, she saved all she could, but still so many lay dead in the snow, so many good people, so many brave people. They fled up the hill towards the chantry; it was strongest building in the village.

Above them the dragon roared!

Not that good strong walls would matter much against that thing.

"TO THE CHANTRY!" she heard someone shouting, "THE CHANTRY IS YOU SALVATION!"

Ana rushed inside, nearly colliding with Commander Cullen, she was covered in ash, blood and was out of breath.

He did not look much better.

She looked up, surprised to see Chancellor Roderick standing near the door, the man had been rallying the survivors urging them to…

He slumped to the floor of the chantry, clutching a wound in his side; blood ran down the front of his robes.

Cole was there doing what he could to support the man, the boy sighed sadly.

"He tried to stop a Templar," he informed Ana, "He stood before him and a wounded soldier…"

The boy shook his head.

"He will die soon."

The Chancellor coughed blood, he laughed despite the pain he had to be in.

"Such…such a…charming boy," he gasped.

Cullen glared impotently at the door.

He snarled with frustration.

"There is nothing we can do now herald," he said, "All the time you had bought us with that slide had been lost thanks to that…that… beast."

Cole shivered.

"I saw an Archdemon once," he admitted, "It…it was in the fade, but…it…it looked a lot like that."

Ana shivered.

An Archdemon? Did the Elder One have an Archdemon under his command too?

If he did…?

They were facing something far worse than a simple enemy.

"It doesn't bloody matter what that thing is," Cullen spat at Cole, "It has cleared a path for that army!"

He turned to Ana, a worried look on his face.

"There is no hope now Herald," he said grimly, The Templars hold the pass, and even if we could get out, that beast would pick us off before…"

The Commander fell silent; he did not need to finish his sentence.

They both knew what happened next.

"The Elder One does not care about the village," Cole said, "He just wants the Herald."

Ana turned to him.

"How do you know all this?"

The boy shuddered; he pulled his hat farther down over his eyes.

"I don't like his thoughts," he said, "They are so angry…they…they hurt…I…I don't like him."

Cullen almost threw up his hands in frustration.

"You don't…ugh!"

Ana swallowed hard.

_The Elder One wanted her; a shiver ran down her spine._

_Perhaps…perhaps if she surrendered herself, perhaps she could…?_

Cole looked right at her.

"He will crush them anyway," the boy informed her.

Cullen seized Ana by the arms.

"We can't get out of here," he said, "But that does not mean that we can't make these bastards sorry they ever came to Haven, we can choose how to die."

"There must be a way! Think!"

He shook his head.

"We…we could take the remaining trebuchet. Cause one last slide, but the enemy is on top of us. If we did that…?"

"We would bury Haven," Ana reminded him, "we would bury ourselves!"

The Commander sighed fatalistically.

"At least we would take some of them with us."

Ana swallowed hard, she did not want to die here, but…

Did they have much choice?

"Really? Hm, yes…yes that might work, it might help."

She looked down at Cole, the boy was sitting before Chancellor Roderick, the man had to be in horrible pain, but Cole looked like they were having a pleasant conversation.

He turned to Ana and Cullen.

"Chancellor Roderick has something to say," He said, "Before he dies…he wants to help."

The Chancellor gasped.

"There…there is the way…a path out of the chantry…only those that have made the summer pilgrimage would…would…know…"

The man laughed a laugh that turned into a cough.

"She most have shown me, this…this must be why I was spared."

Ana leaned down next to him, she had never really liked the man, but if he could save them…

"Chancellor?" she asked.

He smiled serenely.

"Everyone else that was there…they died at the Conclave. Andraste…she must have meant for me to live. She needed me to do this…this one last thing for her faithful."

He coughed blood and wiped his hand on his sleeve.

"She has not abandoned us," he rasped, "She did not abandon me. I will serve her purpose."

Ana blinked.

If there was a way out of here.

"Cullen? Can you do this?"

Possibly, but that beast will follow. If it wants the herald, it will…"

Ana took a deep breath.

She knew what needed to be done.

"The Elder one wants me," she said, "Let's give him what he wants."

She drew her sword, she was terrified, but seeing her allies gave her courage.

"Cullen get them out, I'll hold the bastards here. I'll fire the trebuchet"

IOI

Cullen blinked.

"But how will you…"

Ana met his eyes, her beautiful blue eyes. She gave him a sad smile that said more than a thousand words.

She knew what she was doing.

She would not escape, and she knew it.

They stood their frozen staring into each other's eyes, so much passed between them, so much but so little.

He swallowed.

"You…you might find a way," he said, "You might…"

"Maybe," she shrugged.

He nodded, feeling a very real lump in his throat.

She blinked a single tear ran down her face.

"Can you do it?"

He nodded.

"You have to wait until we can get above the tree line," he said, "If you can hold them here that long."

Ana nodded.

"I will hold," she promised.

The boy, Cole, helped the chancellor to his feet. He grabbed Ana by the shoulder.

"Herald," he gasped, "I…I don't know if she sent you, but if she did…I…I will pray for you. I will get these people to safety."

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you, Lord Chancellor," she said warmly.

"Maker go with you, child."

"And with you."

He nodded; Cole helped his away, carrying him towards the path that would save them.

Ana took another deep breath.

"I will need some volunteers," she said grimly, "To help me with the trebuchet."

Several soldiers and two mages agreed to help, surely they realized that this was a one way trip, but they committed themselves anyway.

The Herald asked this of them, this great sacrifice

They were prepared to make it.

Cullen led the people back, following Chancellor Roderick; he did not see Cassandra or any of the others of the Herald's circle of friends. He…he would make sure that they got out safely, for Lady Ana's sake.

"Herald?" he called back.

She paused.

He swallowed hard, so many things he wanted to tell her…but the words died on his lips. He…he…

His eyes flashed with determination.

"Make those bastards hear you," he said grimly.

She nodded.

Behind them the door to the chantry shook, the Red Templars had brought up a battering ram.

She drew her blade; the mages took position behind her and her soldiers.

She took a deep breath.

"Let us give our guests a warm welcome," she said.

Some of the soldiers laughed nervously.

Cullen turned away, helping those who might slow them down, trying to save everyone.

He wanted to look upon her one last time, but he dared not. If he did, he might not have been able to do his duty.

_The Herald._

_Their Herald._

_Ana._

_He was leaving her. He could not save her…_

…_Like he could not save Solona._

He choked back tears.

He tried to deny them for her sake, for all their sake.

She had made a decision.

He would see that it was not made in vain.

IOI

Ana sighed heavily.

She was terrified, but at the same time she felt strangely light. She had taken full command of her own destiny. Whatever happened in the next few minutes…that would be **her** choice.

_There was something…liberating in that._

She pursed her lips.

She had only one regret.

_I should have kissed him goodbye._

She smirked.

It was a funny thought, as she stood here at the end of her life. If she was going to die, she would have liked to have kissed the handsome commander once. She wondered how his lips would have tasted, would his kiss of been gentle or harsh like the soldier that he was…?

She shuddered.

_Oh well, too late now._

She sighed.

Only one regret at the end.

She supposed that wasn't that bad.

_Not a bad life at all._

She nodded to the soldiers at the door, they flung them open.

Five Red Templars stood there, holding their battering ram, they looked dumbfounded, not expecting the door to just open.

Ana giggled.

_If only they could see their faces._

She smiled.

"Gentleman," she said warmly, "Welcome to Haven."

She ducked, the two mages with her sent fireballs screaming over her head.

They blew up in the Templars' faces.

Ana lunged forward. She beheaded one, and bashed a second with her shield.

Make them hear me, Cullen had said.

She could do that.

The herald shook her head.

She really should have kissed him.

It would have been…nice.


	32. The Thief and the Monster

**Chapter 32: The Thief and the Monster**

Ana and her volunteers battled down the burning streets of Haven. Red Templars continued to harass them, slowing their progress, but so far they had not tried overwhelming the small force, choosing instead to strike in small groups, wear down their defenses.

The herald would have none of it; they needed to reach the trebuchet. She glanced up at the mountains, the ones closest to Haven.

She smiled grimly, there was quite a bit of snow up there, one good shot would be enough to do it, to bring the whole mountain top down on the burning village. It would bury everything, the Red Templars, the burning buildings, and everything else…

She winced slightly.

_Everything would be buried, including her._

She was afraid, but pushed on anyway; she knew what the lives of the people of Haven were at stake here,

The future of the Inquisition, she would not let it fail.

It was a funny, she should have died months ago, she should have been blown up at the conclave, along with her uncle and all the other dignitaries, the fact that she had survived…

Some would call it a miracle; she called it just dumb luck, luck that had finally run out.

She thought about her Uncle Randolph, what would he have said about everything she had done in the last few months? Would he be proud of her, or would he consider her the worst of blasphemers. She still had no real idea what her family back in Ostwick thought about all this. She had been too frightened to write them and find out.

She sighed.

She could do nothing about that now.

As for what her Uncle thought, she would likely be able to ask him about it soon, if the Maker was kind, he just might bring her to his side after all…unless she really was a heretic and blasphemer.

If she was, it probably would not matter in the end would it?

She would know the answer soon enough.

The group managed to fight its way to the remaining trebuchet, they could see the Templars advancing in the distance, but that was no longer their concern, this was no longer about slowing the Elder One's army, in fact the more of them close to Haven the better.

If she was going to be buried alive, she wanted as many of the enemy as she could get for company. Let them all share her fate.

It would be good for the Inquisition.

Her volunteers worked quickly to bring the trebuchet around. They had lost two of the soldiers and one of the mages on their journey here. She felt sad that she had not even asked these brave souls names before they had started out, it was a shame that they had died for the cause and she could not even mark their passing.

Arrows rained down on the trebuchet.

The mage used his power to both shield her and the others, or reverse the weapons' path. Red Templars squealed as they were struck by their own arrows. It was that squeal that Ana hated most of all, it was just another sign that these Templars were no longer human, that they had traded their mortality for something more, and far worse.

The herald leapt forward, regarding another Templar horror, a creature so bloated with red lyrium that it could barely stand up. It tried to fire a magical bolt at the trebuchet but she blocked it. She beheaded the creature before it had a chance to try again. Two more Templars carrying tower shields breached the wall; she did her best to engage them, to keep them busy. She spun around, putting their backs to the trebuchet crew.

The mage helping her did his part.

He froze one of the Templar's solid, the second shocked by the death of his ally, lost focus for a second that was all the time she needed.

She got around the shield and ended to damned soul's life. Sadly, it was only a minor victory.

More were coming.

The soldier turning the trebuchet towards their target was struck in the throat by an arrow. He fell with barely a sound. Ana threw her dagger ending the life of his killer, but the damage had already been done.

She rushed back to take his place, they needed to get this damned thing into position they...

The dragon roared overhead, Ana feared that the beast would burn them down, but it only swooped back over the town.

Thank the Maker for that, they still had time.

She glanced up at the tree line, how much longer would they need to hold, things were starting to get hot down here.

She mustered her courage.

They would hold as long as they could, as long as they had breath in their bodies.

It would be her last gift to the Inquisition.

A pained howl rang out from over the barricade; it turned her stomach to water.

She glanced up.

Makers breath! What now?

The monster lumbered over the barricade, it was huge, three times the size of a man, it…it looked almost like a waling chunk of red lyrium, it carried a huge club made of the stuff, bits rag and flesh still clung to the crystal, but that was about it. Its tiny head was encased in the helm of a Templar officer, a Knight-Captain she thought.

The monster…the behemoth advanced on them on the Trebuchet.

They could not let that happen.

"Attack!" the herald shouted, "Keep it away from the trebuchet!"

Her soldiers flocked to her side.

"ATTACK!" she shouted.

They did.

Two of her soldiers pulled out long chains with barbed hooks on the end; they wrapped them around the creature's neck and pulled. It howled in madness and rage, fighting them…

The soldiers pulled harder.

The mage cast cold spells, trying to slow the beast down. It struggled against them it gestured at the mage; a blast of red fire struck him, burning away his flesh.

He vanished with a scream and a lot of burnt ash.

Enraged, Ana grabbed one of the warrior's chains helping him pull.

"Bring it down!" she shouted.

Bring it down! Bring it down! BRING IT DOWN!"

The behemoth wailed and collapsed.

The herald and her warriors were on it in seconds stabbing and chopping at its arms and head.

Two of her soldiers, archers remained at the Trebuchet, still trying to sight in on their target. Red Templars making it over the wall ignored them for the most part, trying to come to the aid of the monster that had once been one of their leaders.

The behemoth swatted out with his powerful arms, flinging one soldier away and crushing another.

Only four of them now remained, the Herald the two manning the trebuchet, and one man, a young recruit with a sword and shield.

With a cry of pure rage, Ana buried her sword up to the hilt in the behemoth's eye, shoving it through the eye slot of the Templar helmet. The monster bucked underneath her, but she continued to push down with her sword, intent on ending the beast's life.

Finally, it ceased its struggles; it slumped down on the snow. So little blood ran out of the creature, it was literally almost entirely red lyrium.

The herald shuddered.

Poor soul, she thought, at least he was at peace now, if that was even possible.

The young man with the shield helped her down and they ran back to the trebuchet, they helped the two archers get the weapon into position, it was loaded and ready…all that was needed now was the signal.

She looked up at the tree line again, still no sign.

She glared at the distant slope.

Come on Cullen; get those people out of there!

A shadow passed over the moon. A loud roar shook her out of her musings.

The dragon was diving again…

This time…it was driving straight at them!

"RUN!" she shouted, leaping from the trebuchet.

"RUN!"

The soldiers joined her.

The dragon breathed fire.

Ana screamed as she was catapulted into the air, the intense heat behind her scalded her back even through her battle armor.

She heard several screams cut short, the last of her volunteers.

She came down hard on the ground, she cried out as something cracked loudly in her chest. She lay in the bloody melting snow, struggling to rise. She…

The dragon wheeled around and again, it flew lower and lower.

She stared in horror as the beast landed less than few feet from her. She found herself staring into those dead milky eyes, feeling the stench of its hot rotting breath.

She shuddered, waiting for the beast to reach out with its massive jaws, to swallow her like some dainty morsel.

That did not happen.

"ENOUGH!"

The voice was strong, a whip crack that made even her flinch.

The dragon stopped, it hissed as steaming saliva dripped from its diseased mouth.

Ana shivered.

That voice, she had heard that voice before, back in the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

_We have an intruder, kill the girl…NOW!_

Ana shuddered as she tried to rise, the pain in her chest was intense.

She turned to face her enemy.

The monster she had seen on the ridge was standing before her; he looked at her with pure contempt.

The cruel mouth twisted into an evil sneer.

"Pretender," he spat, "Little thief…you have meddled in powers beyond your ken. Now…you shall answer for your crimes."

She glanced fleetingly at the tree line, had she missed the signal, she hoped not.

She turned back to the monster.

What are you?" she spat, pink froth spitting from her mouth, "Why are you doing this?!"

The monster might have laughed, she could not be sure.

"Mortals," he spat, "Always seeking truth, when they are not prepared for the answers. I was like you once; I sought my own answers, now…I am the answer."

He stood taller.

"Behold the answer, little thief, behold and exalt in the Elder One, the will that is Corypheus!"

Ana was still trying to struggle to her feet, behind the dragon hissed, warning her against attacking its master.

Attack was however not her intend, she did not need to attack; she just needed to keep this…this…Corypheus talking.

She could do that. She began to inch closer to the trebuchet.

Come on Cullen she thought.

Come on!

"What…what do you want from me?" she whimpered, playing for time.

Corypheus snarled.

"I have come to reclaim what you have stolen from me, the anchor that you wield."

He shook his head.

"You have no idea what you have done with your bumbling, you interfered with plans that were years in the making, the saving of this very world."

The Elder One shook his head.

"Kneel before me, and beg your god's forgiveness."

She looked away not wanting the monster to see the fury and defiance in her eyes.

More time, the others needed more time, she could give them that.

Just…keep talking.

"You murdered the Divine, why? What is the point of all this chaos?"

"Chaossss," Corypheus hissed, "Issss the point."

He moved with an inhuman speed, catching her throat in his strong grip, she squeaked, a mouse caught in the talons of a powerful raptor.

He sneered at her.

"Once pretender, I assaulted the heavens on the word of another, the call of the old gods. I was their pawn. I strode into great city, found the very throne of the gods. Now…I answer to no one but myself. The anchor you stole was part of this, the key that I would use."

He shook his head, and flung her hard to the ground once again, her shoulder snapped deciding to keep her ribs company, she cried out, but did not take her eyes off the Elder One.

She still needed to keep him busy.

"For a thousand years I slept, dreaming of my failure, dreaming of the city that was promised us. We found nothing golden, only darkness, disease and corruption. I awoke confused, but no more, no more."

She shook her head. What the monster was saying it made no sense.

He was mad, or lying he had to be, because if he wasn't…?

She gasped.

After seeing the dark future, she had asked herself what kind of man would dare do what the Elder One had done. How could he have not learned from the actions of the Magisters of old? Why was he in such a hurry to repeat their mistakes?

She now knew the answer, and it was surprisingly simple.

He had not seen what he had done as a mistake.

He had not learned from the Magister's example.

He was the example. Corypheus…he was one of them.

"You brought the Blight to this world!" she spat.

"You are one of them! You're one of the **betrayers**!"

Corypheus' eyes narrowed in anger.

"I **betrayed** no one! It was I who was **betrayed!**"

He kicked her viciously, causing her to slam hard against the trebuchet.

"BETRAYED!" he roared.

She suppressed a pained laugh.

She might have thanked him; he had brought her exactly where she had needed to be, by the controls of the trebuchet.

Now she just needed to live just long enough to do what she needed to do.

She glanced up at the tree line, still nothing.

She cursed under her breath.

Come on, Cullen.

COME ON!

Corypheus looked at her with pure hatred.

"Pray that I succeed, pretender. I have seen the throne of god, and it was empty!"

He pointed an accusing finger at her.

"It is you who have brought about this chaos "herald."

He spat her title like it was a foul curse.

"You stole the anchor from me; I was going to use it to bring about a brave new world. I am going to restore this world to glory, give it the Imperium and the god it deserves."

He reached into a pouch at his belt, drawing out a small globe; it looked like it was made of stone.

It began to glow red in his hand.

He raised the globe.

Ana's mark pulsed, she screamed in pain!

It…it…OH MAKER!

It had not felt this bad since she had first awoken.

"Today, I reclaim it," Corypheus purred with a smile, "Tonight, I undo your bumbling!"

The mark pulsed.

"Ahhh!" she screamed trying to fight through the pain.

Her eyes never leaving the tree line…

…Still nothing.

_Keep him talking._

"**I didn't ask for this,"** she cried out in agony.

"And yet, here you are," Corypheus sighed, "I will tolerate no rival, even if you did not seek to oppose me I will still destroy you. I must…"

The globe pulsed and fell silent.

Corypheus stared at it in disbelief.

Ana whimpered, the pain in her hand was still intense, but the mark remained.

Corypheus hissed with frustration.

"The anchor," he spat, "It is permanent, you have spoiled it with your bumbling, corrupted it!"

Ana almost laughed.

It was funny that one of the betrayers thought that she had corrupted something, ironic really.

The Elder One clearly did not see it that way.

He sighed heavily.

"Now I must start over, and begin again. You have cost me time and effort pretender, that…I cannot abide."

The dragon snarled hungrily, it began to advance on Ana.

She winced, waiting for the end.

_I'm sorry Cullen,_ she thought.

_I'm so…eh?_

That…is when she saw it, a lone fire arrow shot into the sky, fired from a spot above the tree line.

She almost laughed with gratitude and relief.

_Maker bless you Cullen._

She drew her sword with her left hand. She could barely; stand, but she could do this, this one last thing…

…One last sacrifice.

Corypheus snorted, possibly with amusement, the dragon hissed.

Ana smiled at them both.

_They were in for a bit of a surprise._

"You think I want to fight you? That was never my intent."

She raised her sword.

"Here Betrayer," she shouted at Corypheus.

"**Here **is your prize!"

Her sword came down it cut the line holding the trebuchet from firing.

The weapon released its payload into the mountain.

For a moment there was silence, and then the weapon struck its target.

The ground beneath their feet shook.

For the second time that evening thunder shook the valley as the top of the mountain started to slide down.

Corypheus stood there in shock. The dragon roared.

Ana did not stick around, she ran, ran as quick as her injuries allowed.

A wall of white descended on Haven it roared like a thing alive.

Don't think about it, she thought, don't look.

Run.

_**RUN! **_

She saw the dragon take flight, with something thin clutched in its talons, the beast carrying its master to safety.

She cursed that, it would have been nice to have gotten Corypheus too…alas that was not the case.

She ran, and ran…

She leapt into the air as the wall of snow hit her.

She might have screamed she could not be sure, her world spun crazily as she was swept up in the avalanche.

Everything was white…and then…then it came.

If she could have she would have sighed with relief.

She was falling out of the white and below her…

Darkness.

Blissful rest…

…and darkness.


	33. Gone

**Chapter 33: Gone**

"**YOU LEFT HER!"**

Cassandra's words struck Cullen like a fist, but he did nothing to defend himself. The Seeker was not wrong, he had left Ana behind…

_And now…now she was gone._

The Inquisition had been marching for what felt like hours, not really having any destination, just trying to get away from Haven, away from the Elder One and his beast. They saw the final avalanche in the distance, saw the…the Archdemon…or whatever it was fly away, after that, they had simply tried to keep moving, to get as far away from monsters, dragons and Red Templars as they could, but the strength of mortals would only last so long...

They had to stop some time, and now they had.

Now…the accusations could begin.

While the camp was being established, the four remaining members of the war council met not far from where the rest of the Herald's inner-circle had set up camp. Word of Ana's loss was spreading quickly, bringing sadness and despair. Varric, usually so talkative had fallen silent, simply looking back at the mountains, thinking of the girl they had called friend. Solas helped Sera with her fire; she cursed his use of magic to get the flames going but did not try to put them out once they had a roaring flame to warm her hands. Vivienne was conferring with the surviving mages, seeing what left they had to work with, offering healers to help the walking wounded, they were all tired, but all recognized that they may need to move quickly if they were discovered again by the Elder One's forces. Iron Bull gathered his chargers, he offered to help set up a perimeter to help defend the wounded and villagers of Haven who were now refugees. Dorian agreed to help them, quipping how rare it was that a Tevinter and a Qunari saw eye to eye on anything. Blackwall sat near his own fire, sharpening his blade, listening to the back and forth between the war council.

_He was getting angrier by the minute._

Cassandra had been up front with the others while Cullen had been speaking with the herald, had that not been the case she might have elected to stay and help defend the trebuchet, finding that her friend had stood alone with only a few volunteer soldiers angered the Seeker greatly. Leliana had gone ahead with the scouts, staying close to the wounded chancellor Roderick, making sure the path he was guiding them on was clear of enemies and sound. Josephine had been escorted out with Mother Gisele and the rest of the priests and villagers, she was no front line fighter, but even she felt heavy at the loss of the young girl who had come to mean so much to them all…

The Seeker fumed.

_It was like losing Justinia all over again. _

"She ordered me to get these people out," Cullen growled, "She knew that she needed to stay behind!"

"YOU! DON'T! KNOW! THAT!" Cassandra said hotly.

"That monster wanted her," Cullen said trying to reign in his own temper. If Cassandra thought she was the only one who mourned Ana's passing she was gravely mistaken.

_He had __**not**__ saved her. He had __**not **__even tried._

That would haunt him for the rest of his days.

The pain he felt in his heart was shocking, the thought of never seeing Lady Ana again, it…he had not felt such loss in a long time.

It was _almost _crippling.

He felt himself starting to slip back into that dark place he had been in after Ferelden, after he survived the Circle Tower there.

He was trying to resist that, the hatred, the rage…

The Champion's sister had helped him come back last time, but if he went down into that place again…

He knew that there was no coming back.

"You should have come for me," Cassandra spat angrily; "I could have gotten her out!"

"Or shared her fate," he snapped back.

"It would have been my choice! I…"

"**ENOUGH!"**

Blackwall was on his feet, his eyes flashing with anger; he stepped between the two councilors. They looked at him in shock.

He stared them both down with his piercing gaze.

"This is beneath you," he growled, "You both served in the chantry, Templar and Seeker, your whole lives were about sacrifice and honor. Have you both abandoned those ideals so quickly?"

The Seeker glared at Cullen with barely controlled rage.

"He left Ana behind," she growled.

The warden hissed in frustration.

"The Commander was obeying an order," he said, "And it was the right one, to save as many lives as he could. The Herald…Lady Ana made a choice. If she was what the beast wanted she was willing to give us the time we needed to escape, to buy us a chance to fight another day."

The Seeker's eyes narrowed.

"How will we fight on without her, fade rifts remain, and we now have **no** way to close them!"

"We will find a way," Blackwall said, "Ana trusted us to do that, to carry on…"

The warden shook his head.

"You shame yourselves, a nineteen year old noble girl shows more honor then the both of you combined. She understood the value of duty, sacrifice, honor; these were not empty words to her. She was a brave girl, a noble woman, and it had nothing to do with the circumstances of her blood.

Blackwall sighed.

"You both **cheapen** her sacrifice with this petty bickering. She would expect us to carry on, that is what we must do."

"A brave speech, my dear," Vivienne emerged from the shadows, her fine robes stained with ash and blood.

"But, it changes nothing…Ana is gone, this Inquisition has lost the Herald of Andraste, and perhaps more than that."

The Warden gave her a wolfish smile.

"Has it? Forgive me Madame but I don't see it that way. We still live. We still have armor and weapons. If Ana is dead, than there is nothing we can do, but carry on….but…"

He turned to Cullen.

"What if she **isn't?** She survived the destruction of the Conclave. She fought her way through time to save us from what that Elder One bastard had planned…"

Blackwall shook his head.

"I would not count such a woman out, not so quickly. We should send out scouts, see if any stragglers survived Haven, and make sure that we are not being followed, if we find the Herald alive among them…so much the better.

"You saw the slide," Cullen reminded him, "No one could have survived **that**."

"We will see," the warden snorted, going off to gather up some scouts to start the search.

Cullen blinked.

_Could the warden be right?_

"You seem quite certain about this, my dear," Vivienne cooed, "May I ask why?"

Blackwall chuckled.

"Because I have a little bit of something you so-called proper folks should have in spades," he replied not bothering to face them.

"I have faith."

IOI

Snow covered the ruins of Haven, a few Red Templars crawled out of the edges of the slide, but not many, the bulk of the army began to fall back the way they had come, the officers no doubt fearful of their lives, if the red lyrium still permitted them to be afraid.

The Elder One's victory had been spoiled here. The pretender had cheated him out of his grand moment, yet again.

He would **not **be pleased.

And what of the Herald of Andraste, most would say she was dead? That she had been swept away in the wave of white death. A few Venatori remained behind, to search through the wreckage, to try and recover the pretender's body that might at least save their lives when the Elder One demanded that someone answer for this outrage.

_They found nothing._

The Herald was just gone.

Of course, it was possible that they were not looking in the right place?

Terror ran through the hearts of the Venatori scouts, it made them double their efforts, but even that would not be enough.

Their god was not going to be pleased.

Hope quickly faded.

The girl was gone.

She was lost.

At least they hoped she was.

If she wasn't…?

They would share the same fate as the disbelievers.

A terrifying thought.

IOI

Deep beneath the snow, surrounded by a cocoon of stone, Ana slowly awoke…

Part of her wished she hadn't.

The Herald groaned, lost for a moment in a world of pain.

She blinked trying to keep from throwing up.

Her body felt like one giant bruise. She lay there for a moment trying to gather enough strength to try and stand; not to mention checking her body, seeing how bad she was injured.

Broken ribs or perhaps just badly bruised, she suspected that from how the slightest breath made her wince, her left shoulder was likely broken from when Corypheus had flung her to the ground. She had lost her shield during the fight; she still had her sword, but was not in any shape to fight if attacked. Her armor was cracked in several places as well; she noticed that as she struggled to her feet.

She almost cried out as she tried to put weight on her left foot, her ankle throbbed; she almost fell over but used her sword as a cane to stop it.

She took a deep breath, and tried to will herself to calm down. Sprained ankle, she had possibly broken a bone or bones in her foot. She tested it again, this time she was ready for the pain, she did not fall, but she could not put much weight on it either….

Ana shook her head. She was in a bad way.

She glanced around her, she had landed face down in a snow bank, it had likely saved her life, above her there was only snow, around her walls of hard black stone, and several timber supports.

She smiled slightly, despite the pain.

She must have fallen into part of the old mining complex that ran through these mountains, and if this was a mine, their just might be way out of here, if she could find it.

The mark on her hand, the anchor Corypheus had callled it continued to sputter and spark. Had he destabilized it with his attempt to remove it? Was it growing again? It was possible she supposed, if it was she did not have much time.

The mark would consume her, what that meant, she did not know?

What she did know is that she could not wait around for someone to come and save her, likely the only people above her were loyal to the Venatori, she had no desire to find herself in their clutches.

She raised her right hand, the light from the mark, illuminated a tunnel to her right, seeing no other option, she began to hobble down it, using her sword to try and keep her balance.

She needed to find a way out of here, hopefully before the Venatori learned she had survived.

IOI

Ana was not sure how long she had limped along in the darkness, a while at least. The pain in her body made seconds feel like hours, but still she pushed on.

She was a Trevelyan damn it, she would not be stopped by something like this.

_Are you so sure?_

Ana swore under her breath.

She hated that little voice in her head, the one that was always there to remind her of everything that had gone wrong in her life. How she would always be the third born, the one best left forgotten. In her weaker moments she had listened to it, too much. Since joining the Inquisition she had tried to ignore that part of herself.

She was **not, **nothing; she had proved that in the last year had she not?

She pushed on, deep into the darkness.

She blinked when she thought she saw a flicker of light, her sounds…voices? Possibly

"Is someone there?"

The light intensified.

She tried to make her way towards it, a larger chamber up ahead…

The attack struck her from behind.

She cried out in agony!

It felt like her back had been ripped open, she staggered and fell forward.

A loud keening wail nearly shattered her ears.

She looked up with horror.

Two withered things wrapped in black ragged robes were floating towards her long fingers with frost covered claws reached out for her.

She swallowed hard, recognizing them immediately.

Despair demons.

She had encountered these creatures several times in the hinterlands and then again in the Falo Mire. They used ice magic to weaken their prey.

She swallowed hard.

_Prey._

_Her? _

_**NO! **_

She lashed out with her sword; one of the demons caught the blade with its long fingers. The blow had been weak. It did not even appear injured.

The blade was covered in thick frost. The despair demon broke it in half.

The demon wailed right in Ana's face.

The Herald screamed.

Two shades and a wraith slithered out of the shadows, eager to see what the two despair demons had caught. They made for Ana, in her weakened state she was no match for them.

The demons must have been trapped down here since the breach first opened, and gotten lost in these dark corridors. Now they need not worry, they had finally found a meal.

Ana roared in anger, she could not believe she had survived Corypheus just to die like this! It made her angry!

It made her **FURIOUS!**

She flung out her hand, the anchor blazed brightly.

There was a loud popping sound.

A ball of fade energy filled the room.

The demons screamed.

Ana gasped.

For a moment she feared she had opened another fade rift, but this was not like that, the magic reached out for the demons draining them of their strength.

The Despair demons' wailing turned into moans of pain as the…whatever it was drained them of their strength, the magic was destroying them.

There was another loudly popping sound. The glowing ball of magic was gone…

…As well as all the demons.

The herald whimpered.

What in Andraste's name was that?

She certainly had no idea.

She groaned and forced herself back to her feet, the wounds on her back throbbed; she looked down and saw blood coloring the snow. Her blood…

The Herald sighed.

It was just another injury to add to her collection.

As she rose to her feet, she felt something to surprising a gentle breeze tickled her red hair.

She turned looking down the dark chamber, there were four here, the one she had come out of, two that were blocked, and the one that she was facing.

She felt the breeze again, it was cold, but the air did not feel so foul, perhaps…perhaps…

Ana smiled.

Perhaps she was not trapped here after all.

_Don't count on that._

"Shut up," she grumbled to herself.

She hobbled down that corridor. She looked down at her sword, the despair demon had snapped it in half, but the cold had left a jagged edge on it, still useful? Possibly.

She did not discard it; it might still come in handy.

She stuck the broken blade in her belt, it would stay with her. It would be her friend.

_It won't save you._

Ana ignored that voice.

She followed the breeze, and tried to hope for the best, blood dribbled down her back, leaving a trail behind her. She tried to ignore it.

_You are going to die, just lay down and accept it._

"No," Ana spat.

_You are just wasting your time._

"Fuck you."

IOI

Ana followed the breeze, it was getting stronger.

She could not move that fast, not with her injuries, she felt cold, far colder than she should have; occasionally she lifted her hand, using the mark for light.

She turned a corner and stepped out into the fresh night air…

…right into a blizzard.

A blast of cold air took her breath away; she staggered and nearly rolled down a hill.

She thought she could hear cruel laughter in her ears.

_You made it out, congratulations, now you get to freeze to death._

The Herald did not even deem that with an answer, she pushed forward into the wind; through the blowing snow she could see a familiar set of mountains. They looked similar to the peaks the others had escaped to…perhaps…

_Those could be any mountains, you are grasping at straws._

She pushed on anyway.

She had no choice really.

_Sure you do, you can lay down and die._

She did not stop. She pushed on, ignoring the pain in her leg, back, ribs, and shoulder.

She did not stop.

She pushed on.

IOI

She trudged on, the snow getting heavier the farther she went, it now came up almost o her thighs, she struggled through the drifts, rubbing her chest with her arms.

Maker…it was so cold out here…so very cold.

_You are going to die here._

She blinked against the stinging snow and blowing wind, she had no idea where she was, only that she could not stop, if she stopped, she would die.

She could not do that.

_Why not?_

She pushed on.

Her teeth chattering, she fought against the snow and the wind, as much as her damaged body allowed her too.

As cold as it was, her head felt hot, almost burning, as she pushed through the snow it only seemed to get worse, her limbs felt heavier and heavier.

No longer was it just one voice tormenting her, it was many. People that she had known, people that she had failed.

_Give up little goose; you aren't strong enough to survive this._

Ana swore under her breath.

"Shut up, Lizzy."

_How dare you talk to the heir of your house like that? I'm still your superior little goose._

"Stop calling me **that!** I'm sick of that childish nickname!"

_You didn't used to be bothered by it?_

"I was **five**, and you have never let it drop, not in sixteen years!"

_You have never given me a reason too._

Ana snarled.

She would give her sister a damned reason.

_You're not going to make it, Kiddo._

"Shut up Varric."

_I knew you were too weak to do what needed to be done._

"I am not weak Cassandra!"

_Then **prove** it!_

"I am!"

She thought she heard the Seeker laugh.

_That is **not** what I see._

She almost whimpered. She staggered fell to her knees in the deep snow. She cursed, struggled to her feet, and pushed on.

_What do you think you are doing?_

She whimpered.

Cullen's voice, great.

_You stupid little girl, following me around like some love struck puppy, do you think I would ever return the affections of a child?_

She snarled in fury.

She heard Lizzy laugh.

_Why would he want you little goose, when he could have a real woman like **me?**_

"SHUT UP!" Ana wailed.

Laughter filled the wind.

"ALL OF YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

She had never been so angry! Fury fueled by despair. She fell again but no longer had the strength to rise; she crawled through the deep snow, crawled and ended up rolling down a tall hill.

She lay whimpering at the bottom, if it was not so cold she might have cried.

She was **weak.**

She was a **fool.**

Part of her just wanted to lay here and let fate take her.

_Place your bets all!_

She blinked at the sound of Sera's voice.

_How is this noble git going to buy it? Cold? Blood loss? Maybe that glowy mark thing? Ugh, pathetic isn't she? Like every other noble shite out there!_

She dragged herself on.

_You are such a disappointment my dear, a disgrace to your name and your class._

Ana ignored Vivienne, she did not stop, she might not be able to walk, but that did not mean that she was helpless.

She could at least crawl.

She…

She almost dragged herself into a dead fire; she blinked at the sight of it, her gauntlet moved closer to the flame.

Embers? They were still warm?

_That does not mean anything!_

She somehow dragged herself to her knees, she forced herself to stand, and stagger on.

_Weak!_

_Stupid!_

_Foolish!_

_Dumb shite!_

"**SHUT UP!"** she cried out.

The snow had finally stopped, the wind dropped. She took two more steps and collapsed.

She could not go on.

She let out a shuddering breath, a whimper.

I…I can't go on, she thought with a sob.

I can't!

_Told you._

She curled up into a fetal ball; even the soft glow of yellow light on the warm snow did not rouse her from her despair.

Go away, she thought.

"Over here, I think I found someone."

"Where?"

"Over here fool. Bring the lantern."

"Leave me alone," Ana whimpered.

_I have failed._

_Please just let me die._

Two figures stood over her, dressed in familiar green hoods.

Inquisition scouts.

"It is her!"

_Go away. _

**"WE FOUND THE HERALD! BRING HELP!"**

_No._

"Thank the Maker!"

_No._

She felt herself being lifted in strong arms, she was so cold. She no longer had the will to fight…not anymore.

"You are all right now Your Worship," a warm voice said, "We will get you back to camp."

"No," she whispered.

The man did not hear her, damn him.

_She could not do it anymore._

_She wouldn't._

She let the darkness claim her.

She was happy to let it take her.

She was so cold so tired.

She…

She could not go on.


	34. Faith

**Chapter 34: Faith**

Ana drifted in and out of consciousness as the healers did what they could for her many, many wounds.

Mother Giselle's people got to work on her almost immediately. Solas, Dorian, and Vivienne had rushed to her side as well, offering magic to aid in her recovery…

Though recovery had not been the right word for it at the time, Ana had been at the end of her rope when the scouts had found her. She had all but surrendered to death, and had been waiting for it to take her; now the Inquisition had found her and dragged her back to life…

_She was not sure if she should have been happy or sad?_

The Herald shifted uncomfortably on the fur of her bedroll, the warmth felt good after having been so cold, but…

The pain of her journey here remained.

Memories of her wanderings through the snow haunted her, the words of ghosts whether real or imagined. She…she could not even bring herself to look at Cullen when he had seen her.

_How could you expect me to return the affections of a child?_

Those words tortured her heart, and burned her **very **soul.

Slowly, with the care of the mages, Adan's potions, and Mother Giselle's aid, the herald was drawn back from the brink of death. Now she lay wrapped in fur, drifting back between this world and the world of dreams.

_And she had no idea what she should do next._

She shivered wishing to disappear into the softness of the furs, to forget the outside world and return to the blissful dreams that had seemed so real as healing magic knitted her damaged body back together.

Of course, it had not all been blissful, she had had several lucid moments as she recovered, her fellow councilors had come to her then, asking about what had happened in Haven, what she had done, and what she had seen…

She told them the truth, no matter how disturbing it was…

_A Magister? One of the Magisters of old?_

_Yes Cassandra, so he claimed._

_Maker save us._

_Do not be frightened Josie, the beast may have been lying._

_Why would it lie? It did appear to be a darkspawn did it not?_

_It is __**not**__ possible?_

_We will see Commander; there is…precedence for such a thing._

_What? How can that be?_

_What have you heard Cassandra?_

_One of Varric's tall-tales, I will…speak with him, confirm it if I can._

_We need to keep this news to ourselves._

_I don't agree sister; our people deserve to know what we face._

_What do you think it will do to their courage Cullen, facing one of the betrayers?_

_Do not doubt our people's courage they could…_

Ana had lost consciousness again after that. She kept drifting in and out. One of the healers had poured some new potion down her throat; it warmed her entire body, making her extremely drowsy.

She was not sure how long she was asleep, but she awoke to find herself lying on her side, her thoughts cloudy, but coherent. One of Minaeve's tranquil assistants was applying some foul smelling concoction to her bare back.

The girl's touch was gentle, but the burning sensation the medicine caused made her wince.

Then there was the odor.

"Maker that stinks," the herald griped.

The girl did not even shrug, she just applied herself to her work with the single minded purpose that all of her kind possessed.

"It is needed to treat the toxins in your blood," the tranquil informed her in her flat monotone voice, "Despair demons use it to make their prey more…agreeable, more open to the emotions they feed upon."

She tilted her head slightly.

"It would have no effect on me, besides damaging me physically. I wailed when the Templars dragged me away to perform the rite, though I can no longer remember why."

The girl blinked.

"It seems I have another reason to be content in my role," the tranquil said returning to her work.

Ana shivered, whether from hearing about being poisoned or the Tranquil's admission she could not say which. She remembered the hopelessness she had felt as she had trudged through the snow on the way here. An effect of the toxin, probably, she had all but given up when the Inquisition soldiers found her.

She…she felt somewhat better now. Either because she was back safe among the others, or Minaeve's concoctions worked better than she thought.

Either way, she did not feel like she wanted to die, at least not at this moment.

"**Ouch**, that looks like it hurt quite a bit."

Ana glanced up, Dorian kneeled over her watching the tranquil work, a mischievous twinkle in the mage's eyes. Even the ash and blood from their near escape did not seem to dull his spirits. Self-consciously she pulled the furs up tighter around herself aware that she wasn't wearing any top.

The Tevinter mage either did not notice or pretended not to.

He gave her an innocent smile.

"Please do not disturb the patient," The tranquil said flatly.

Dorian ignored her, all his attention focused on the injured herald.

"You know my dear; there are much more…pleasant ways to get claw marks down your back."

She blushed and giggled, the effect was not good on her still sore ribs.

"Dorian…ah…Maker save me…don't…uh… make me…ah… laugh…please."

The Tevinter mage smiled slightly.

"My apologies, Milady," he said, reaching out with a slightly glowing hand, it came to rest just below her right breast. Some of the tightness in her chest subsided.

She sighed with visible relief.

_Healing magic __**was **__good._

"The herald needs her rest,' the tranquil informed him, the full weight of her attention now focused on him, you should leave and allow her to get it."

Dorian shivered, not that Ana blamed him. It was hard to stay calm under that cold gaze. Though they were extremely helpful, the tranquil could be a bit…disturbing. Those glassy eyes, the dead voice, not to mention the sunburst brand on their foreheads.

For a mage it was likely worse, knowing that this girl, that **all **the tranquil had once been mages, before the Templars had taken away their magic, that their emotion and talents had been ripped away by process. The chantry had always called the Rite of Tranquility a mercy, but…

Seeing the results…it did not look that way.

The Tevinter mage tried not to show his discomfort around the girl. A tranquil could not be insulted of course, but old habits die hard.

He tried to maintain his noble courtesy, even in dealing with this poor soul.

"Of…of course," he said with an exaggerated bow, "I will speak with you soon Milady. If for no other reason to make you laugh. I have heard it is some of the strongest medicine there is after all, and no so foul smelling."

Ana smiled slightly.

"Thank you, Dorian."

The mage left quickly. The tranquil finished her work.

Ana shivered.

"You should drink this," the tranquil said offering her a small vial, "It will allow you to sleep and aid in your healing."

Ana drank it, the warmth spreading quickly down her throat and into her belly.

She almost immediately felt a sense of warm contentment, her eyes growing heavier by the second.

She gave the tranquil a sad look.

"I'm sorry for what they did to you."

The girl blinked.

"I no longer talk to dragons," she replied.

Ana fell asleep.

She never got to hear what the girl meant.

Perhaps it was better that way.

IOI

When she awoke again, it was to the sound of raised voices.

**This **_**cannot **_**stand.**

**What choice do we have Cullen, without the infrastructure of the Inquisition…**

**Please, we **_**must**_** use reason.**

**We need to do what we can for the wounded, and then…**

**Who put you in charge here?**

**Someone has to be…**

**We **_**need**_** to reach a consensus.**

**Your are **_**not**_** in charge here!**

Ana sighed heavily.

She had thought she had been dreaming those sounds, those angry voices, but now as she came back to full wakefulness, her mind clearer than it had been earlier, she realized the truth.

It sounded like trouble.

_The Inquisition was about to tear itself apart._

She struggled to rise, but a gentle hand stopped her. She was still a little sore despite everything the healers had done for her.

"Do not try to move child," Revered Mother Giselle cooed, "You still need your rest."

Ana sighed and lay back down she was a bit surprised to find the cleric here, surely she had other patients in more dire need of her aid.

The Revered Mother had changed her bandages, and added fresh herbs to her wounds. Thanks to the mages, the broken bones had all likely healed, but the bruises remained. The wounds inflicted by the despair demon had been more troubling however, and would likely take more time to heal, and were most than likely to leave scars.

Ana pursed her lips.

She wasn't surprised. It seemed that she was adding up quite a collection of scars after these last few months, and probably would have even more before all was done.

She glanced outside her tent, trying to tune out the shouting from her fellow councilors.

"They have been at it for hours," she sighed.

Mother Giselle shrugged.

"We seem to have eluded our pursuers, at least for now. In the absence of the chase we turn our aggressions inward, blaming each other and ourselves."

The herald's eyes narrowed.

"Do we know where Corypheus is right now, where his army is?"

"We do not know exactly where **we** are?" the mother replied, "Perhaps that is why the monster has yet to find us? Perhaps he believes you dead, and we…no longer a threat? Or he might be girding his men for another attack, as I said, we just don't know.

Ana groaned and tried to rise again, once again Mother Giselle's hand came up.

"I need to be out there," the herald hissed, "Perhaps I can help."

"One more raised voice will not stop the arguments, only a plan of action will likely do that, but if you insist on rejoining them..."

The mother reached behind her, pulling out a shirt long coat, and wool leggings she had managed to scourge up.

Ana nodded gratefully, pulling the shirt over her head.

The Mother shifted uncomfortably?

"Herald of Andraste?"

"Yes, Revered Mother?"

"Many strange tales have begun circulating through the camp, particularly about this Elder One, the one calling himself Corypheus."

Ana cursed under her breath, she had been far from lucid when they brought her back to camp. Had she been raving? Had she mentioned what Corypheus had told her? She could have?

She remembered that Leliana had wished the identity of their enemy kept secret for now, it seemed that that desire had failed, and likely because of her.

If she had, then all this fear and doubt was now her fault.

The very thought shamed the herald.

"I am sure there **are** tales," Ana said, "considering the power he displayed at Haven, it is not surprising."

She looked into the mother's careworn face; the herald shook her head sadly.

"I know only what he told me," she began, "He claimed to have been one of the betrayers, mother. He told me that he attacked the heavens, that he was one of the invaders that assaulted the golden city."

Mother Giselle sighed.

"Then perhaps the rumor is true. I hoped that it was wrong. You of course already know the story in the chant of light, I trust, that Magisters of the ancient Tevinter Imperium assaulted the heavens, in a vain attempt to seize the power of the gods for themselves. They entered the golden city and were tainted by their sin, their pride turning into what we know today as the Blight sickness, and that they were cast down by the Maker, becoming the first darkspawn."

Ana nodded.

"I've heard the tales."

Mother Giselle shivered, to someone in the chantry; these were more than mere tales. They were a warning of the dangers of hubris and pride,

"These Magisters of course, were the creatures that caused mankind to suffer the Blights. They awoke the first Archdemon and aided it in trying to end our world. If this…Corypheus is one of those men, then he is a monster beyond our very imagination."

Ana looked down at her hand, the mark, the anchor as Corypheus called it appeared stable once again, she was happy to see that it had. After everything that she had endured, it would have been pathetic to die from the very thing that had aided her all these many months.

Her survival was yet another victory over Corypheus; at least she thought it was. He had not slain her, nor had he retrieved the mark from her body.

Any victory was over such a powerful being was too valuable to simply discount.

"He wanted me," the herald sighed, "and the mark that I carry. He called me a pretender, that I had stolen from him and ruined his plans."

The Revered mother nodded.

Ana shook her head.

"He told me that when he entered the golden city, it was already blackened, that the throne of the Maker was empty?"

Giselle shook her head.

"No mortal should ever have seen that place. It is not a journey the living was meant to make. Perhaps what he told you was a lie, something that he must tell himself to make sense of his punishment. This…creature earned the very scorn of the Maker. I do not see how he lives with it, I certainly could not."

The herald glared at her.

"What if he is right?"

"Child," Giselle hissed.

"What if he **is **right, mother? What if the Maker has turned away from us? What if there is no forgiveness for our failings?"

The Revered Mother smiled slightly.

"I do not believe that."

"Why do you say that?"

"I have proof."

"What proof?"

The cleric's smile widened.

"He sent us you," she replied.

Ana rolled her eyes.

_Andraste's ass!_

_Not this again!_

She had come to like Mother Giselle these past few months. The cleric was one of the most pragmatic members of the chantry. Ana liked that, she respected it. Mother Giselle did not look upon Ana as a savior, she understood the value of her as a symbol to others, but hearing what she had just said.

It frustrated the young woman.

Shortly after the Inquisition had begun, Ana had remembering hearing several clerics talking. They had been discussing that a _new_ canticle would soon be needed for the Chant of Light that the life of the Herald would need to be chronicled for the faithful.

Ana had blanched at that idea. The thought of there being…the…the Canticles of Anastasia, the very thought filled her with dread. That was why she had always chosen to seek out Mother Giselle when dealing with the chantry folk. The woman did not make her feel like she was more than what she was…

Now it seemed; the cleric had lost that perspective.

"You **are** the monster's rival," Mother Giselle continued, "You spoiled his plans at the Conclave. You stopped him from bringing the free mages over to his side. You have sealed the rifts his foul magic has caused…and then you returned to us after falling in Haven, even the monster's full wrath could not deny you."

Giselle smiled.

"We all see that. The world will soon see that."

Ana whimpered.

"I didn't die in Haven, Mother," she almost sobbed, "I survived, barely perhaps, but I did survive."

The herald shook her head.

"What you believe I am, it…it is impossible, dumb luck, or blind chance."

The cleric clucked softly.

It is not what I believe it is what the people see, and what they have come to believe about you."

She placed a warm hand on Ana's shoulder.

"And as for your survival being something more than providence, you must ask yourself one question. Is it? You do not see what has happened. The impossible was you walking out of the fade after the Conclave? Where you see chance child, the people see providence. The mark was trusted to you, dumb luck or something greater, something planned. Was your survival in Haven blind chance, was that what guided you through these mountains and back to us, or was it something more?"

The mother shrugged.

"I have no answer to these questions. I told you back in the Hinterlands that I did not know if you had been touched by fate, I still do not have that answer. What I do know is what I hear from the people around us. You are…exactly what we needed when we needed it. I know what my heart tells me, what my soul tells me. There is more to you than simple chance and dumb luck."

She squeezed the girl's shoulder.

"The greater our enemies child, the more our suffering seems ordained that you will lead us through this darkness and back into the light. The Maker chose you for a reason. Andraste chose you, that is what the faithful see, what they believe. **You** are what we need. You have the power to guide us to victory. All you have to do is accept it."

Ana shuddered, her head spun with the mother's words.

What she was asking of her.

_It…it was big._

_It was __**too **__big!_

She almost sobbed.

"I want to believe you, Your Reverence, but…I'm **not** some chosen one. I'm just me. If you knew me before, you would know a thousand reasons why the Maker choosing me for this task is insane best, a sick joke at worst."

She shivered slipping on the wool leggings, her boots, coat, and a heavy cloak.

Mother Giselle said nothing, her eyes were dark.

Was she disappointed in Ana? Probably.

That made the girl heart sick, but she could do nothing about it.

She was tired of all this religious…bullshit.

She was not a savior; she had never wanted to be.

She would not be their sacrifice!

She was weary of trying to be the herald that everyone wanted her to be.

She was sick of it….

…Sick of all of it.

She struggled to her feet, slipping out of the tent.

What she saw outside made her heart sick.

All around her she saw despair and the wounded. The Inquisition had survived Haven. Yet now it was assaulted by both fear and tragedy. She spotted Leliana and Cassandra, their heads down, their eyes downcast…

Ana shivered she did not see hope here.

She saw the beginning of the end.

IOI

Mother Giselle sighed heavily, not in disappointment, but in pity.

She could not help it, she felt sorry for Ana Trevelyan.

What was being asked of her, it was too large a burden for one so young. She had been asked to carry the world on her shoulders.

Yet, in spite of it all, hope still remained.

The girl had said many times that she found the comparison that many of the faithful drew between her and Andraste disturbing. The cleric drew comfort from that.

Had she embraced that comparison, it likely would have led to pride or arrogance. The Trevelyan girl remained humble despite all she had done.

Power was seductive; it corrupted the most resolute soul. What the child had been given could have turned her into the worst of tyrants, people would have followed her to their own damnation, and simply because they thought it the will of the Maker.

Yet still…the girl resisted, she did not want the power.

This was why, that it needed to be hers.

Mother Giselle shook her head.

The Maker's plan was beyond her, she always accepted that, but in this…she could least give it some aid.

She could help the herald see.

She sighed, a sad smile on her face.

She began…

_Shadows fall_

_And hope has fled_

_Steel your heart_

_The dawn will come_

IOI

Ana paused, in the darkness the song began to grow from the tent, Mother Giselle emerged, her words filling the darkened camp. The cleric's voice was strong and carried far, pushing back the silence.

_The night is long_

_And the path is dark_

_Look to the sky_

_For one day soon_

_The dawn will come_

IOI

Leliana looked up from her musings, her eyes turned to the cleric, ensorcelled by the words of comfort.

The spymaster smiled.

She took up the song, as only the bard she once was could do.

_The shepard's lost_

_And his home is far_

_Keep to the stars_

_The dawn will come_

_The Night is long_

_And the path is dark_

_Look to the sky_

_For one day soon_

_The dawn will come_

IOI

Voices raised in song all over the camp, the fearful taking up the call.

Near one of the small fires, Cole looked up from his work; the music filled him as well.

He glanced down at his charge. He watched as Chancellor Roderick left this world, a small smile of contentment graced the man's face.

Cole had done everything he could, the man's passing had been quick, and with little pain, but he had done nothing to aid it.

What had comforted the Chancellor in his final moments had been nothing he had devised.

All around him the soldiers were taking up the song, rededicating themselves to their cause.

It was something that Cole had never experienced

It made him sad.

It made him want to stay.

IOI

_Bare your blade_

_And raise it high_

_Stand your ground_

_The dawn will come_

IOI

They came to her then, the soldiers and the faithful. Ana stood in the snow, unsure of what was happening, the song filling the darkened mountain path.

She saw them all. Cullen, Leliana, Josephine, Cassandra, and so many others, their voices raised in song. They looked upon her with more than simple respect

One by one, they all fell before her on bended knee, the whole Inquisition kneeling to her, paying homage to their herald, offering her their blades, their help…asking only that she do one thing.

That she continue to serve…

That she continue to believe.

_The night is long_

_And the path is dark_

_Look to the sky_

_For one day soon_

_The dawn __**will **__come_

IOI

Ana was speechless.

_Did…did they know what they were asking of her?_

_What they wanted?_

Mother Giselle stood at her side, a gentle smile on the Cleric's face. All around them the Inquisition was returning to its duty, its courage bolstered by the simple words of the cleric's song.

She turned to the herald.

"You may have lost your faith, my child, but these people have not…"

She placed a hand on Ana's shoulder.

"They have found it. They **have** faith…in you."

Ana blinked her head awhirl.

She felt both exalted and at the same time like a trapped animal.

She wrapped her cloak tighter around her. Suddenly feeling very closed in, like she was trapped in some tight cave.

She made for the edge of camp, trying to control her breathing.

She needed to get away, just for a few moments.

She needed to think.


	35. The Nightingale, the Apostate,

**Chapter 35: The Nightingale, the Apostate, and the True Herald**

_They all came to her side, masters of magic and kings of men, the great and the near great, and they all stood as nothing before her. They all fell on bended knee before her, this one lone woman, in that moment…they loved her, and so did the Maker._

Ana Trevelyan sighed.

She had just turned fourteen when she first read those words. She knew that for certain because the book that it came from was a gift for her fourteenth name day. A book **banned** by the chantry, a gift from one of the daughters of her mother's friends, or perhaps one of her enemy, considering what could have happened if she had been caught with it…

The girl smiled wanly.

It had been called _Maferath's Lament_, a fictional account of the guilt felt later in life by Andraste's traitorous husband. The story itself wasn't that good, but the simple phrase about the lords of Thedas going before Andraste and bowing to her.

It had always stuck in Ana's mind.

What would that have felt like? To have all those people…bowing before you, looking upon you as more than what you were…

She had always wondered what that would have felt like. What had Andraste been feeling in that moment? What would have been going through her head?

Now…she knew.

And…she was terrified.

She left the camp. She did not go far of course; she could not…given how sore she still was. Still, she needed to get away, to get away from all those eyes, all those people who looked upon her and saw…what?

A savior?

Someone touched by the Maker himself?

She knew what was expected of her, and she would do it, gladly, but…

_They have found their faith, in you. _

_The Maker sent us you._

Mother Giselle's words haunted her, and not for the reason others might expect.

She stood outside the camp, looking out upon the white mountain slopes below; everything was so quiet up here…even the noises of camp seemed so distant.

She needed that solitude, if for no other reason to clear her head.

_They loved her, and so did the Maker._

"Herald?"

She did not bother to turn, of all the people to seek her out; she had not expected this one to come after her.

"Sister Leliana."

The hooded spymaster came to her side, she seemed better than she had been a few moments earlier, bolstered by Mother Giselle.

Ana wished that she could say the same.

She hated to admit it, but she had been avoiding the other woman over the past few weeks, every time she looked at her, she saw that poor tortured creature that she had met in the future, that angry, dying soul who had bought her the time she had needed to make good her escape back to the present.

She…she had tried to apologize to the sister, what her future-self had done, was noble and incredibly brave. Leliana had not seen it that way, she saw it as something that she had gladly done, or would have done given the opportunity.

I would do it again, she had said.

Ana shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold.

"Are you all right, Herald?" she asked her.

She laughed mirthlessly.

"Yes," she giggled.

Leliana gave her a pointed look.

"Are you _sure_?"

The question just made the fit of the giggles hit Ana even harder.

"Let us see sister," she said fighting off panic, "You saw what happened back there? All those people… _kneeling _before me. Doesn't every girl want to be treated like that?"

Leliana did not answer; she just stood there, watching her with those cold blue eyes, evaluating her.

And still the giggles came.

"I…I never thought myself a paragon of the faith, of anything really" she said wiping at the tears flowing from her eyes.

"I…I should be pleased, you know. All those people counting on me. All those people…all those people…"

She sniffled, there was such a small line between fear and hysteria. She feared that she had started to cross it now.

She waited for the sister to slap her, or walk away in disappointment. Leliana did none of those things.

She simply…just stood there.

Maybe it was the cold air, or the cold regard of the spymaster, but slowly Ana managed to pull herself back together. She whimpered and turned away from the older woman's gaze.

She took a shuddering breath.

"I…I was never meant for this you know. All of this…it is beyond insane. I…I would never have asked for this."

Leliana crossed her arms.

Here it comes, Ana thought, the lecture, she was quite familiar with such things.

"What would you have asked for Milady?" the sister asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"What would you want out of this life?

Ana shrugged.

It was a question she had heard before. Her mother had asked it, right after father had passed away.

What do you want out of life Anastasia? What is your plan for the future?"

She had still been hurting then; the loss of her father was still so raw. She did not know how Mother could be so cold, so quick to lock away any pain and grief she felt for the loss of her husband, the father of her children for Andraste's sake…

All that had mattered was the family, its interests and future.

Sometimes, that was all that mattered to Mother, Ana thought.

What followed was the longest conversation they had ever had, which still was about only fifteen to twenty minutes.

It was a personal record for them.

Ana had wanted to get out of Ostwick then. She had been seriously considering attending the University of Orlais. The thought of further her education away from Ostwick and all its politics had seemed more than appealing; it had seemed like almost paradise.

Mother shot down those dreams of course.

_You still have your duty Anastasia._

_You are still my child, and I love you, but you still have your duty to this family. Elizabeth will take over for me when I go to join your father. Andreas will continue his studies no doubt; Maker knows having one scholar in the family is useful enough._

Mother had smiled at her then.

_It is tradition for third child of the family to be given to the chantry, you know that. However if you can find yourself a worthy husband who can further the family name, I will not object to that either._

_I have…tolerated your…hobby, studying arms with Master Geoffrey. Maker knows you needed something to keep you out of trouble, but the world has changed Anastasia, the days of winning glory with the sword has passed. Glory is now found in power and business, it is for the head of this family; your place…is to serve._

Ana still remembered those words; the cage that her mother had told her would be her life.

She had never wanted glory; that was not why she had studied arms; she enjoyed spending time with their master at arms. He made her feel that she was more than just the third child. As for the rest of it…well…

She sighed.

She had never wanted to join the chantry, as for marriage well…

She had hoped that she would find a proper husband one day, a man that would love her as much as she loved him, love her, and father their children. She would have tried to find an advantageous match, but at the same time…

She wanted a man who would love her for who she was, not just the fact that she was Lady Aliza's third daughter.

Two years later, the Kirkwall chantry had blown up, and changed their world forever. The Templar/Mage war began, the conclave was called…and here they all were.

She gave Leliana a sideways glance.

What did she want?

"Glory was never what I wanted," she began, "I would have been happy with an ordinary life, ordinary for a Trevelyan anyway."

She smiled slightly.

"A position on the Teyrn's court perhaps, a small title nothing too extravagant. Maybe a husband who actually wanted me, wanted to spend time with me."

She shook her head.

"I was never meant for great things, sister," she sighed, "My whole life I've heard that. I've always knew that I would live my life, I…I would…be remembered by my family, my children, Maker willing, and their children perhaps, but then…a hundred years from now. I would be gone, my name just one of many on our family tapestry."

She gave the sister a sad smile.

"What I saw here tonight, the very idea of it terrifies me. Nothing I have done has prepared me for that."

She looked away; she was no longer able to stand the sister's cool regard.

"You must think me pathetic."

Leliana did something then that she rarely did, in Ana's presence anyway.

She smiled slightly.

"May I tell you a story, Herald?"

Ana rolled her eyes.

"I suppose."

Leliana quirked her lip.

"I knew two people once, good people, but they…their lives…were a bit complicated. The young man was awkward; he had a good heart and was a good fighter, but ask him about his heritage, his family and he would trip over his own feet. The young woman, she was…she was a firebrand to be sure. She was so angry, so willing to turn violent, to solve all her problems with a sword. She had a mission you see, she had lost those dear to her, and wanted nothing more than to punish those responsible, even if the oaths she swore were forgotten. The young man did what he could to rein her in, but they fought each other as much as they fought our enemies."

Ana smiled.

"I'm guessing they did not kill each other?"

No," Leliana grinned, "They did not."

"The young man took on some of the girl's darkness, and she took on some of his light. Two halves of a single whole they were. The two of them did amazing things together, impossible things. Both of them had never expected that. The man thought himself inconvenient, a mistake his father pushed away. The girl had been expected to marry well, beyond that…nothing else."

"And they loved each other," the herald asked.

"That came later, but yes, they loved each other."

Leliana winced.

"We all loved them, some of us more than others."

The sister blinked and turned away.

The herald said nothing; somethings she knew were best kept private.

When Leliana looked up again, her mask was back in place.

"The Maker's will can surprise us, Herald. What we expect our lives to be, and what comes are often two different things. The plans we make are often cast aside by his design."

She sighed.

"Most Holy feared that this Inquisition would be the only way to put the world back on the right path, but she could not have known about you…"

The sister smiled.

"If Justinia were here, I would think that she would be pleased with what you have done, what you have helped us accomplish, what you have given us."

Ana laughed nervously.

"Either that or she would have had you kill me."

Leliana's face turned sad.

"Sadly we shall never know," she murmured, the pain of the Divine's loss again etched on her face.

"The truly great do not ask for greatness, Herald, they just do what is expected of them, if people call them great later, than that is simply the burden they must bear."

She turned to walk away.

IOI

Leliana smiled slightly to herself as she left.

She had something to discuss with Cassandra and the others.

_The time **had** come._

She thought of Alistair and Elissa, her friends. What they had done and what they had meant…

Alistair had always been a good friend, and he was a good king, despite what he said to the contrary.

Elissa…Liss was…

Leliana sighed.

She had loved Liss, but the warden had loved only Alistair. Leliana had ended up being content to have the warden's friendship, it was not everything she had wanted, but it had been something at least.

She had been content with that.

She had hoped that Liss would have come with her, that she would have consented to becoming Inquisitor. The Hero of Ferelden would have gone a long way to legitimizing the movement. When she vanished, Leliana had looked for her, but she was simply gone. Even Alistair did not know what happened to her, and it was tearing him apart inside.

Cassandra had suggested then that they seek out Garrett Hawke; surely the Champion of Kirkwall would be able to lead the Inquisition to victory.

When he vanished too…all had seemed lost. The Divine would have no leader to present a strong face for the Inquisition…then…the Maker, or perhaps his bride, did something none of them had expected…

He sent them the Herald.

Leliana smiled.

_The Dawn will come._

Those were more than simply words to a song.

In the morning the Inquisition would have to make a decision, a decision that would change all their fortunes.

She hoped they would all be ready.

IOI

Ana returned to her quiet reflection, looking out across the sky, looking out across the mountain peaks.

What Leliana said made sense, but still…doubt remained.

She looked up at the sky.

The chantry taught that the Maker was gone, that he chose only rarely to look down on his wayward children.

The Herald pursed her lips.

If that was so, if they had disappointed him so much…why bother looking at all?

Why did he care?

She remembered one of her first conversations with Leliana, the spymaster had been so angry then…

She had demanded that Ana, who now spoke for Andraste and the Maker, tell her what the Maker's game was…

Ana had had no answers then, she still had none…

…and it was starting to piss her off.

She felt a flicker of anger rush through her.

She glared up into the night sky.

_Why_, she thought angrily.

_If Corypheus is one of the betrayers, you cast him out. Why did you not simply destroy him? Why did you let survive this long? If you are really there, then why did you leave such a monster in or midst? Was it to test us, or do you just like watching us suffer? _

_**We**__ didn't burn Andraste! __**We**__ did not worship the old gods or invade your damn city! Why punish us while Corypheus lives, while he still plots to overthrow you! __**Why**__ must we clean up __**your **__mess?_

_Why?_

_Why? _

_**WHY?!**_

"_**WHAT DO WANT FROM ME?!" **_She howled at the stars.

She was panting now, furious, enraged!

_If the Maker was up there, what did he hope to gain by doing this? Why ask this of her._

_There had been hundreds at the Conclave, men and women of greater faith then her. Warriors and leaders of men, anyone of them would have happily taken up the mantle of Herald of Andraste._

_Why her?_

_What made Ana Trevelyan so damn special?_

_Did he want to see her fail, to see her broken by the monster he created; was that to be the final insult for humankind?_

_She should have been **nothing** that was to be her destiny, mother had taught her that. Yet, now, everyone knew her name, when she failed. Everyone would know._

Damn you, she thought.

She shook her head.

"I hate you," she murmured.

The brazier she had been standing next to exploded with emerald colored light, she gasped in shock.

"It is only I, Ana."

She spun angrily on the speaker.

"Damn you, Solas," she spat, "I'm going to put a bell around your neck, I swear it!"

The bald elven apostate chuckled. He stood patiently across from her. The light of the veilfire he had summoned giving his features an otherworldly look.

"My apologies, my friend," he said soothingly, "I did not mean to startle you, in truth I needed to speak with you privately, away from the ears of the others."

Ana sighed.

She had let her anger at…well…at everything…affect her reaction to Solas. It was beneath her.

She had been raised better than that.

She sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry, Solas," she said, "I'm…I'm just a little troubled."

He gave her a wry smile.

"I'm not surprised, and I hate to add to your troubles, but there is something that you need to know."

Ana shivered, she rubbed her hands over the veil fire, wishing that she had thought to find some gloves or mittens before coming out here. Fortunately, Solas', what Sera called, not-fire thing, still had the capabilities of warming her hands.

"What is wrong, Solas? I'm listening."

The elf sighed.

"I heard some of your report about Corypheus, his dragon, and…also…the orb he used on you. I…I have heard of such things, in my travels."

Solas shook his head.

"The orb that Corypheus carries, it…it is elvhen, an artifact of my people. "

The Herald's eyes widened.

"Oh Solas," she gasped, "Are you certain?"

"I am," he replied, "I've have seen such things in memories within the fade."

His brow furrowed with anger, his elven ears lowered slightly.

"I never thought anyone trained in the Imperium would be able to unlock such a powerful item, but I suppose I should not be surprised. The Tevinter built their empire on the bones and magic of my people. I suspect that he used this…foci…to destroy the Conclave. How he survived the explosion, I do not know, but this…Corypheus meddles with power he cannot possibly comprehend."

Ana winced.

"But it is worse than that, Solas. Isn't it?"

The elf shuddered.

"I fear so, yes."

The herald shook her head.

Even before the Conclave, there had been a lot of anger directed at the elves. The Orlesian Civil War had begun with an elven revolt in Halamshiral. Many nobles in Orlais and elsewhere blamed the elves for the chaos that had been happening since.

If it got out that an elven artifact had been used to murder the Divine? The people would not care that one of the betrayers had done the deed. They could not harm Corypheus…

…But they could harm the elves.

Blood would run like rivers through the Alienages of Thedas. It would be chaos, and that could only serve the needs of the Elder One.

Ana clenched her hands in angry fists.

She could not allow that to happen.

She would be damned before she allowed that to happen.

"We need to keep this between us, for now," she said softly, "I will do what I can to help you."

Solas smiled.

"Thank you, my friend, and perhaps…I can do something for you as well."

Ana arched an eyebrow.

"What do you have in mind?"

Solas smiled.

"I have…a gift for the Inquisition, something that will help the cause, but it is not a gift that I can give, it would likely not be accepted in the spirit that it was given if it was, not coming from an elven apostate."

He took her hands in his.

"You must give them my gift, Ana, and you must do something else as well, you will not like it, but it is necessary."

She gave him a sheepish look.

"I'm almost afraid to ask."

He chuckled.

She mustered her courage.

"What do you need of me, Solas?"

His smile widened.

"You must become the Herald of Andraste."

She gave him a confused look.

"Haven't I _already_ done that?"

His ears twitched with mirth.

"You have played the role, and you have done it well, but…this requires more than you simply playing the role."

He gave her hands a gentle squeeze.

"The people believe in you, now you must give them _more_. You must show them the herald they want you to be. You must cast aside your fear and doubt; humility will not work for you here. You must be a true believer among the true believers."

Her brow furrowed.

"You want me to lie to them?"

"I want you to show them that you _are_ their herald. It is not a lie Ana; it is a justification of their faith. You do not have to believe yourself, just make them believe, believe and no longer question."

Ana shivered.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"It **is** necessary," he shrugged, "By attacking the Inquisition, Corypheus has changed it. He has changed you. Now the Inquisition needs a place that it can grow, that it can spread."

"What place," Ana asked, "What are you up to, Solas?"

He smiled slyly.

"Andraste has spoken to her herald," he said dreamily, "She has offered her sanctuary, her and her devoted followers, all that is required now, is for the herald to lead her people, lead them to salvation."

He squeezed her hands again; they no longer felt cold…

Ana wished the rest of her could say the same.

"Are you ready to lead these people? Are you ready to show them the path to salvation?"

Ana swallowed hard.

Solas knew the answer even before she spoke.

"Oh Maker," she murmured.

Solas smirked.

"Exactly, Ana," he purred.

"Exactly that."


	36. Sanctuary

**Chapter 36: Sanctuary**

"She's gone daft, yeah, that is the word for it."

Varric did not respond. Sera had been voicing her opinion on the mental state of the herald since the camp had risen four days ago. It was on that morning, after Mother Giselle's little sing-along, that Ana had emerged from her tent a changed girl.

_He had hoped that that change was a good thing._

He looked at Sera. The elf did not seem at all pleased by this trek, not that he blamed her. Four days of trudging through fields of snow and ice was not his idea of a good time either. He would always be a city boy at heart. He preferred the paved streets of Kirkwall to all this…this wilderness.

Was Ana still there? Was she still sane?

He hoped so, but even he had his doubts, not that he would let the elf see them.

"Trust her, Buttercup," he replied, "She hasn't steered us wrong yet."

"Ugh," the girl replied.

The elven archer shivered, wrapping herself tighter in her fur cloak, her clothes did little to shield her against the cold, not that it was just the weather that was bothering her. She would never be counted among the true believers in this Inquisition, and since the battle she had seemed even more off than usual.

He had tried to speak with Ana about it the morning they left, but she was just so…so…excited.

He had tried to find out why.

"What's going on, Kiddo," he had asked her.

She had grinned at him, her first real grin since before the attack on Haven.

"It is a surprise, Varric," she said gleefully, "Spread the word, everyone is going to want to hear this."

She limped away, having spotted Cassandra and Josephine near one of the small cook fires.

The dwarf blinked.

_He had never seen her like this, she was clearly still suffering from her injuries, but in spite of all that she looked almost joyous, eager to start the journey._

She seemed…lucid, but who could tell after the damage that had been done to her, perhaps she was still not recovered, and the pain medicine was making her act this way…

He hoped that wasn't the case. The Inquisition could use a little good news right now.

Ana summoned the war council and asked that the rest of the camp come together as well. She promised them all that she had a grand announcement, something that they would all want to hear.

Varric could only guess what that announcement might be, Ana certainly wasn't sharing.

The dwarf shrugged.

It looked like he would find out the same time as everyone else.

When the time came, he had found himself standing near Solas, the elf seemed, a little smug this morning, what that might mean Varric could not say.

Normally, Chuckles was anything but smug, yet there he stood looking like the cat that ate the canary.

It made Varric suspicious. Ana kept glancing over at the elven apostate, as if making sure that he had gotten everything ready for her, even though he had not moved since the crowd had started to assemble.

The dwarf had tried to find out from him what was going on, but Solas merely shrugged.

"Ana has an announcement," he said, "It is best that we wait, and find out from her."

Varric frowned at this.

He had never been a big fan of surprises.

When the camp had gathered, the herald finally began to speak.

Varric…well…he was not sure what to make of it.

Ana claimed to have had a vision the night before, she said that Andraste had heard the words of her children, heard their prayers, and honored their faith.

The herald had smiled.

She asked them all to follow her, to leave the destruction of Haven behind, and trust in their faith. Andraste had **not **abandoned them, she claimed, she had offered them all sanctuary.

All they had to do now was accept it.

"Will you come with me?" she had asked.

The common soldiers went nuts.

"Will **you** follow?"

Excited cheers filled the mountain valley.

Varric glanced over at the Seeker and the rest of the war council, if this had been some ploy of theirs to bolster morale; they were doing a good job of hiding it. They seemed as surprised as anyone, but they were all too smart to let Ana just hang in the wind…

They got behind their herald, as they always had.

Cassandra and Leliana both looked eager to see what Ana had planned, perhaps they even believed that she **did** have a vision of Andraste last night. Cullen remained unreadable, but had rushed off quickly to get the camp packed up and ready to move. Josephine tended to a quick catalogue of their supplies, they had lost much in the flight from Haven, so what they had saved was as precious as gold right now.

They only paused once to tend to those who had perished the night before. Many had been lost, from injuries sustained in the battle, including Chancellor Roderick. Varric had not actually liked the guy, but that did not mean that he did not acknowledge that he had died a hero.

The chancellor had gotten the bulk of their people safely out of Haven. They were still alive because of him. He had given them the shot they needed to make it to where…well….

…_Wherever Ana chose to lead them, he guessed, it had to be better than here._

Once the supplies had been loaded on to the Brontos and Druffalo they were off. He had expected the Herald to lead them out of the mountains. Perhaps to some ally that only she knew about. Instead, she led them up into the mountains and farther deeper into the unknown.

The snow was quite heavy in some spots, drifting almost up to a person's waist, more than once he had seen Ana stumble, she would curse and struggle back to her feet, not letting anyone help her, despite her injuries.

Varric gave the girl a worried look.

She was pushing herself extremely hard; he hoped that whatever was waiting for them at the end of this journey it would be worth it.

For Ana's sake, and theirs as well, she needed to be right about this.

He heard some of the troops whispering about her, how if the Herald, so grievously wounded such a short time ago, push ahead, then surely they could make it to. She would lead them to safety, and then they would make the monster that destroyed Haven pay.

Varric had snorted at that.

He had confidence in Ana, but after seeing Corypheus and his dragon during the battle…he was starting to have doubts. It wasn't about Ana though, no he had seen how tough the kid was, his doubts were about the Inquisition stopping the Elder One. The bastard would not go down easy.

The dwarf shook his head.

He still could not believe it.

Corypheus was still alive? How could that be? He had seen the bastard stone dead on the floor of his prison. Hawke had run him through, and afterwards, Bethany had burned the body for Andraste's sake…

Yet…there he was, still breathing and as ugly as ever. Still driving self-righteous idiots to kill in his name, first it had been the grey wardens, now it was the Templars…

Varric shook his head.

It seemed that those in power…never learned. Even after what had happened in Kirkwall, the Templars still sought out red lyrium, wasn't the fate of Knight-Commander Meredith enough for them? Now…not only to start ingesting the stuff, but to ally themselves with a magister, one of the very Magisters who brought the blight down upon the world in the first place…

_It was more than just stupid… it was tragic._

He sighed heavily; he knew what had to be done.

If Corypheus was still alive, he was going to have to do something he really, **really**, did not want to do.

After everything that had happened in the warden prison, there was a person who needed to be told that Corypheus was still walking in the land of the living.

He sighed.

The Seeker was going to be pissed, but that could not be helped.

If Ana was going to fight that bastard, she would need help.

As soon as they reached their destination, Varric would see if he could borrow one of Leliana's ravens.

He needed to send a message to an old friend.

He hoped that he was still around to get it.

IOI

Ana scrambled up a tall boulder in their path, ignoring the soreness in her ankle, the tightness of the bandages on her back. The herald looked out over the snow, looking for the next landmark on their path to safety; at least she hoped it would lead to safety.

She winced, and not just from the pain in her ankle and back.

What Solas had told her made sense, but at the same time, she had not liked lying to her people.

She almost chuckled at that thought.

_Her people_, when had the Inquisition become _her_ people?

Probably the moment they all decided to bow to you, her conscience chided.

She pursed her lips.

There was that wasn't there?

"Shit."

Okay, technically she was not lying to them, she had seen the path to…to…where ever it was they were going in a dream, but that path had been planted by Solas, or rather his "friends" in the fade. They made no direct contact with her, just showed her the road she needed to walk.

She glanced back over soldiers and refugees from Haven coming up the path.

The Herald sighed.

She prayed that where ever Solas was leading them was worth it. That is friends were not simply messing with her. Solas vouched for them, but still, she was still a good Andrastian girl.

She had always been taught to be leery of spirits, and their motivations.

They were running out of food and supplies, if they did not find sanctuary soon…

Well…it would be bad.

Ana looked ahead of them, the white snow starting to turn blue in the light of the fading sun, she recognized this place from her troubled sleep last night.

Between those two peaks, then up on the ridge beyond them, from there…they would be able to see it.

Ana's brow furrowed.

She could not help but wonder what it was.

Solas had not said, he said it was worth seeing with her own eyes.

She hoped that he was right.

She bounded off the boulder, wincing at the pain in her ankle. She had abandoned her broken armor; she had managed to scrounge up a new sword and buckler, but still held the broken one she carried out of Haven. She felt safer with it in her belt, she did not entirely know why.

The snow was really deep here; even the brontos were having trouble making it through. The druffalo groaned as much as the soldiers, but still they pushed on. Mother Giselle's people keeping everyone moving, Cullen's soldiers herding them like shepherds, moving them ever forward.

Solas managed to make it up next to her, Ana gave him a hopeful look.

The apostate smiled.

"We are here," he said.

She arched an eyebrow.

"Where here?"

The elf smirked and led her up to the last ridge.

She had no idea what to expect. A village that would allow them to resupply, perhaps some fort like she had found on the Storm coast, something like the Blades of Hessarian maintained, that would be useful…it could be…

Ana scaled the ridge.

All thought ceased as she took in the sight before her, where the elf had led them, led her.

It…it was…

Oh Maker!

She had expected some hidden enclave, perhaps a hidden valley where they could rest and start again.

She…she had not expected…this.

A silly smile spread across the Herald's face.

Sanctuary indeed.

The fortress in the distance was massive. Its pale stones blazed orange in the fading sun. Battlements rose from its high walls. It was not so much as nestled in the mountains, but perched atop one. A great keep rose above the high walls. A great stone bridge led up to the fortress' mighty gates.

Ana blinked, wondering if she was still dreaming this.

Had Corypheus attacked this place, he would not have had an easy time of it. This fortress, this castle, it was almost a palace. It was grandeur from a forgotten age.

She looked at Solas, tears in her eyes.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"I have done nothing," he murmured, "This is your victory my friend."

He gestured to the structure in the distance.

"Behold…Skyhold."

"The end of our journey," Ana murmured eager to step inside the place, explore its high walls and many rooms.

The elf chuckled.

"No Ana," he smiled, "It is just the beginning."

IOI

The army cheered as, Ana revealed Skyhold to them, this place that was promised to the Inquisition.

It was all Cullen's people could do to maintain order.

Before the sun set completely, he sent scouts into the old fortress, to make sure that it was unoccupied and safe enough to move their people into. Ana had wanted to join them, but by then, after the four day journey here, the girl could barely stand.

Cullen demanded she stay with the people and rest, that she regain her strength.

The tone of his voice brooked no room for debate.

Ana obeyed.

The scouts returned the fortress was secure; the bridge was stable, though there was some damage to the walls. That would need to be fixed, but for the most part the place was perfect. It would easily shelter their people.

The Herald led the way, the rest of the war council trailing behind her. The first night in Skyhold saw its great courtyard turned into a tent city. Leliana sent out the few ravens she had managed to save, informing the rest of the Inquisition forces scattered throughout Ferelden and Orlais that their leaders still lived, that they had found a new base from which to operate out of.

Cullen set up guard rotations on the wall, just in case any of the Venatori or red Templars had followed them, unlikely, but there was always that possibility.

Skyhold had the bones to withstand an armed attacked, but it would be better that Inquisition be resupplied before that attack came. The soldiers still needed to clear the old mountain paths leading to this place; they had likely not been used since this fortress had been forgotten.

It would be a big job, but everyone seemed eager to pitch in.

He wandered the camp, hearing the excited voices, seeing the hopeful looks on their faces.

The Commander smiled slightly.

The herald had come through for them.

It would make what was to happen that much easier.

The war council had voted that first night, right before they began their trek here, all that remained now was to inform Lady Ana, and the rest of their people.

After leading them here, Cullen doubted that anyone would disagree with the council's decision.

He went in search of their herald, he found her curled up asleep in her tent, not that anyone could blame her. She had gotten little rest on the trip here; in fact, she had almost fallen over when they had finally arrived.

She snuggled deeper into her bedroll, a sweet smile gracing her features.

He smiled fondly at her.

Adorable.

He coughed pushing such thoughts away.

Business still needed to be tended to.

The girl had done her part, now they would do theirs.

The next step would come.

The Inquisition had survived.

Now the time had come.

It was time to name an Inquisitor.

He hoped that she was ready.


	37. Inquisitor

**Chapter 37: Inquisitor**

"_**NO!"**_

Ana sat up in bed with a gasp, her heart racing, her breathing fast and deep, despite the chill in the stone room, she found her bedroll soaked with sweat, and so was she.

She glanced around in confusion, not sure where she was at first, slowly…the dream faded to the back of her mind and the events of the last few days finally caught up with her.

The Herald sighed.

"Thank the Maker," she murmured,

"It…it was just a dream."

_But what a horrible dream it had been._

She looked down at her hand, the anchor still glowed there. It gave her more comfort than she realized it would, seeing that…knowing that the mark was still in her possession.

_It helped push some of the shadows away._

She shivered as she rose from her bed roll. The Inquisition had been in Skyhold for the last three days, yet many of their soldiers still remained in the tent city in the courtyard. Cullen's people had managed to clear the mountain paths, but it would take time to bring up the necessary supplies and masons to make the old fortress truly livable again.

The war council had all taken guard rooms along the main wall, these were the most stable, and the first rooms that the few mason's they did have declared safe for occupation. The upper levels still needed work. Josephine had sent word to her contacts in Orzammar, along with a personal letter to good King Bhelen, hoping to speed up the process.

Ana had never met the dwarven king, but it was said that he was a man who knew how to get things done, a reformer among his people. If anyone could get them the supplies they needed quickly, it would be him.

Meanwhile, more and more soldiers and refugees continued to arrive at Skyhold, most from villages that had been destroyed when the Red Templar army came for Haven. The Elder One had not wanted any witnesses to his passing; his soldiers had destroyed everything in their path.

Many who had lost their homes to the Elder One seemed more than eager to take up the sword for the Inquisition, to see the bastard pay for what they had lost.

Ana could sympathize with that. Skyhold was a much better defensive position, make no mistake about that, but…as strange as it sounded, she found that she missed Haven. The village had become her home over the past few months, almost as much so as Ostwick was…

Her hands tightened into angry fists.

Once she had asked herself who would want to live in Haven, a place she had thought of at the time, as a freezing hole, know she understood.

There had been friends in Haven, she would miss the quiet nights at Flissa's' she would miss talking to Minaeve and even Seggritt.

Who had wanted to live in Haven, she did, and now it was gone, stolen by the monster and his pet dragon.

Corypheus would answer for the loss of the village, and all the poor people and soldiers who had died there…

He would answer…dearly.

Word of Haven's destruction was no doubt spreading even now, but just as quickly, Leliana was dispatching her surviving ravens to her contacts in the larger settlements in both Ferelden and Orlais. Soon word of the Inquisition's continued survival would reach the ears of those who wanted to hear it, but at the same time…it would also reach the ears of those that did not.

Ana shuddered.

Corypheus would not be pleased to hear that she had survived; he would not be pleased at all.

Thinking of the Elder One brought her mind back to her nightmare, she tried to push it away, but it refused to be denied.

It had been all her insecurities given form.

She tried not to let it cripple her.

_They had seized her by the arms so many people, so many angry faces; their skin burnt their eyes glowing with the magic of the fade._

_She had tried to fight them but they were too many, they dragged her along like a sack of flower. She screamed, calling for help, begging for it, but the only answer she got was the angry snarls of her captors._

_Betrayer._

_Blasphemer._

_Heretic._

_False Prophet!_

_Disgrace!_

_The carried her down a long corridor, high pillars of black stone rose to the impossibly high ceiling, Everything around her felt wrong, dark, and forbidden._

"_Unruly child," a familiar voice snarled, "You are more than just a disgrace to our family. You are a disgrace to the god as well._

_Ana's eyes widened as she realized the truth._

"_Uncle Randolph?"_

_The mob carrying her along flung her to the ground like a sack of potatoes, she hit hard, trying to roll with the impact but instead landed hard on the tile floors, the smooth black stone was polished, and shone like a mirror, reflecting those gathered around her._

_Ana stared in vacant horror._

_They wore the garbs of nobles, priest, mages, and Templars, but those garments were all burned and melted. The faces of her captors were not much better. Their hair and ears gone, their skin bubbled up from the heat of the explosion that took their lives._

_These were the faces of nightmares, all those that had died at the Conclave, died while she had been allowed to return._

_She looked up an Uncle Randolph, or rather the thing that had been her uncle. His eyes now flared with dark magic, his fingers were more like claws than hands._

"_So you now think that you were chosen that the Maker chose you, you, of all people to save our world?"_

"_I never claimed that uncle, I…"_

_You are deceitful, and a blasphemer," he growled._

_He pointed behind her._

"_Kneel before the one true god, and beg his forgiveness."_

_She swallowed hard, almost afraid to look. _

_Slowly, her head turned._

_A throne sat on a raised podium, behind it the fade shimmered with gold and emerald light._

_She looked up, gazing at the throne, perhaps expecting to see the glowing woman there, the one who had saved her after the Conclave, perhaps she would finally reveal herself…_

_Perhaps she would let Ana explain._

_What she saw instead horrified her._

_Corypheus sat there, his withered shape barely filling the grand chair, his puckered face twisted into a grin of absolute pleasure._

_His victims, Uncle Randolph included, dropped to their knees, praying and praising the monster's name._

_Ana screamed she tried to rise, to push the foul beast from the chair._

_The space behind the Elder One darkened. His dragon rose like the shadow of death itself. Its roar shook the fade, forcing Ana back to her knees._

_Corypheus chuckled._

"_Do you see pretender," the monster chortled, "You can kneel." _

_He raised his clawed hand, the anchor flared there, its light taunted her._

"_Be gone little one," he hissed, "I have retrieved what you have stolen, now accept your punishment. Your god casts you out, farewell little thief._

_The mark flared._

_Ana fell._

She woke up screaming, but at least…she woke up.

She looked around the guard room, quickly gathering up her clothes. From the tiny windows she could see that the sun was already growing high in the sky.

The sound of many voices also drew her attention, it sounded like the entire courtyard had filled with people. People who would likely be better used securing their new fortress, not simply milling about in the courtyard.

She frowned.

Had something happened? If it had…why had no one bothered to wake her?

She dressed quickly, running her fingers through her hair, it was no substitute for a fine comb or a hot bath, but at least she made herself look presentable.

She sighed, before meeting the new day.

Her stomach twisted nervously.

She was afraid of what waited for her outside that door, but she did not hesitate.

She had survived the Elder One, and his Archdemon, what waited outside could not be as bad that, surely.

I mean how could it? she thought.

Nothing was that bad, was it?

Right?

Right.

IOI

Ana stepped out into the courtyard, soldiers, survivors and merchants milled around her. Far more people than had followed her through the mountains to arrive here, that was for certain.

She blinked against the light of the day, looking for a familiar face to tell her what was going on. They did not seem to be under attack, why gather so many people in the courtyard for no reason, especially when there was work to be done.

She spotted Cassandra speaking with Cullen and Leliana.

The Seeker nodded to her and motioned her to come forward.

Ana obeyed, but she could not ignore the many eyes that followed her progress.

The stories of the battle of Haven, and what she had done there was spreading quickly through the ranks. The tales of her…heroism growing more outlandish with each telling, one of her personal favorites was that she had not even needed the trebuchet to bring the avalanche down on Haven. That she had done it all with simply a wave of her hand, one gesture, and the mountain dumped its full weight down on the Elder One.

She found that one particularly amusing.

The people parted before her, as she made her way up to the Seeker.

Cassandra glanced around at the assembly of so many.

She seemed pleased with the turn out.

"More and more arrive every day," she said, "Some from outlying settlements, others soldiers and fighters looking to sign up. Skyhold is quickly turning into a pilgrimage."

She sighed and led Ana up the stairs, the ones, leading the Skyhold's great hall, the room was a mess, but both Josephine and Madame Vivienne seemed to think that restoring it should take priority. Ana did not see the value herself, but said nothing about it.

Everyone needed something to keep them busy, why not that?

"The tale of your survival…and your exploits in Ferelden are spreading rapidly, if Leliana is to be believed your name is on many lips right now Ana."

The herald frowned.

"Wonderful," she griped.

Cassandra smiled slightly, but that smile quickly fell away.

"Unfortunately, with so many talking, it is only a matter of time until word of your survival reaches the Elder One, if he has not heard about it already."

Ana's expression turned grim.

"Do we fear an attack?"

"Skyhold is not Haven," the warrior woman said with a shrug, "We have the walls and numbers here to put up a fight if we have to, but I suspect that the monster will not be so eager to rush in blindly, not after you humiliated him in Haven. He might not wish to face you again so soon."

The herald shook her head.

"Corypheus wanted my mark, the anchor he called it, and even if he didn't, my actions put the Inquisition in his way."

"In more ways than one," Cassandra answered, "You are the monster's rival because of what **you** have done. You foiled his plans at the Conclave. You rescued the mages from his clutches. You sealed the rifts that would have filled the ranks of his demon army. Then…you sealed the breach, and denied him his victory at Haven, all of this could not be possible without you.

The Seeker sighed heavily. She seemed troubled, not that Ana could say why.

The herald looked up. Leliana stood on a small landing halfway up the stairs into the keep. In her hands she held a long sword. The spymaster was holding it like sword boy might hold it, waiting for the command of his master.

Something about this made Ana shiver.

Leliana waiting for them, the people gathered in the courtyard?

Her heart began to pound.

Why did she suddenly feel like a lamb being led to the slaughter?

_What in Andraste's tits was going on?!_

They stopped before Leliana, the spymaster nodded politely to them both.

Cassandra continued to speak with her, her voice low and soothing.

"This war is not what we had anticipated. You asked us once if we intended to start a holy war. Despite our best efforts, it seems that that is what we have on our hands; it is a war we cannot afford to lose. Corypheus achieving victory would destroy everything we have worked for, that cannot be allowed.

The Seeker stood at parade rest before Ana.

She was beaming now, her eyes lit with quiet pride.

"The Inquisition requires a leader. A counter to the Venatori's Elder One, that leader can be only one person, Ana, the one who has already been leading us."

Leliana dropped to one knee, offering the sword to the herald.

Ana swallowed hard.

They…did…did they mean…?

Oh Maker.

Cassandra smiled at her.

"You Ana," she said, 'It must be you. You led us out of Haven, now you must take the next step."

The Seeker glanced down at the blade in Leliana's hand.

"Will you lead us?"

The Herald was almost speechless.

They…

They…

Oh my.

On no.

Part of her wanted to flee! How…how could they even think that she…she could…?

Then she looked down at the people that had assembled below them, the hopeful looks on their faces.

She could not just turn away from this?

She blinked and swallowed hard.

"This…this decision? It was unanimous?"

"I will not lie," Cassandra purred, "The thought of handing this power over to any one person is a little troubling, but it must be done."

She placed a warm hand on the girl's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, a warm familial gesture that steadied the girl's nerves.

"We trust you, Ana," she said, "What happens next, what you decide, where you choose to lead us that is up to you."

The herald's mouth felt dry, she looked down upon the sword, and sighed, mustering her courage.

It was a beautiful weapon, dwarven made perhaps? It was more than just a sword however…it was a symbol.

A drop of sweat trickled down her back.

If she did this, the girl she had been would be gone forever. Anastasia Aliza Trevelyan would never have had the balls to take all of Thedas into her arms, to declare that she wanted to save it, and could lead those who could do just that.

She was no zealot, but that did not mean that she did not believe.

If she did this, she would not be able to go back to her old life. Ostwick, her place within her family, that would be gone forever, she would no longer be simply a Trevelyan; she would belong to the ages.

It was a terrifying thought, but at the same time…

Her eyes narrowed.

She thought of the nightmare, of feeling so weak and helpless. If she did nothing, she would blame herself for that. Win or lose, stand or fall, Corypheus and the Inquisition were part of who she was, far more than anything else in her life had been.

She thought about the Divine and everyone else who had died at the Conclave. If she walked away now, they had died for nothing. She did not want to make their deaths meaningless.

She willed her hands to stop shaking as she took the blade from Leliana; she wrapped her fingers around the hilt, its shape cast into that of a dragon. She pulled the blade from its sheath. Runes worked into the blade caught the sunlight and flared bright red.

The blade burst into flame. Yet, Ana felt no heat, only cold resolve.

She looked down into those flames.

When she spoke it was with far more conviction that she had ever spoken in her life.

"Corypheus must be stopped," she whispered, "He wishes to make himself a god and rule over us all."

She turned to the Seeker and the Spymaster.

"I…We cannot let that happen."

Both of the older women beamed.

Ana gave them both a nervous smile.

"I accept," she whispered.

The Seeker grinned as she looked down into the crowd, her eyes finding Ambassador Montilyet.

"HAVE OUR PEOPLE BEEN TOLD?"

"They have," Josephine replied smiling brightly.

"COMMANDER?" she shouted down to Cullen, "WHAT SAY THE FAITHFUL?"

"INQUISITION," the former Templar called out drawing his sword, "What say you?"

Cheers began to build.

"Will you follow?" he demanded.

"Yes!" they replied.

"Will you fight?"

"Yes!"

"**WILL WE TRIUMPH?!"**

"**YES!"**

Swords, axes and bows all rose skyward. Cullen raised his blade, his voice rising with the excitement of his men.

"Then we shall follow," he shouted, "Your leader!" Your herald…!"

He pointed up at Ana.

"YOUR…**INQUISITOR!**"

The chant rose like thunder, echoing throughout Skyhold.

"**INQUISITOR!"**

"**INQUISITOR!"**

"**HAIL!"**

"**HAIL!"**

"**HAIL!"**

Even Josephine got caught up in the revelry. She raised her fist skyward.

"Hail," she shouted, before lowering her hand quickly, blushing furiously.

Ana swallowed hard.

_So it was done_ she thought.

She raised her new sword high, the fiery blade blazed in the cold sun.

That only made the soldiers and faithful more rabid.

The chant continued to rise.

"**Hail!"**

"**Inquisitor!"**

"**Hail!"**

"**Hail!"**

"**Hail!"**

"**HAIL!"**

Ana Trevelyan, Inquisitor and the Herald of Andraste could say nothing, she did not need to. She simply let the men salute her, offering her their swords, their service, their very lives.

They had sealed the breach.

Now, they needed to stop Corypheus, no easy task, but what in this world was?

Ana…the inquisitor put her best foot forward, letting the men see what they needed to see, their Herald, their new leader, proud and strong.

She hoped that she was ready.

"All hail, the Inquisitor," she whispered.

_Andraste save me_, she thought.

She giggled nervously.

_I'm so fucked._


	38. The Forgotten

**Chapter 38: The Forgotten**

Ana's first duty as Inquisitor was not a pleasant one, but as with so many things in her life since the Conclave, it was something that was necessary…

Not that necessity made anything certain, nothing about this was certain. What was going to happen hinged on what she heard in the next few moments? What the boy told her, and what she felt in her gut.

In the end that was what mattered now, the others had put the Inquisition in her hands. She did not wish to be a tyrant, but at the same time she did not want to be doormat either.

If everyone expected her to lead, then that is what she intended to do.

She would lead.

She would rule.

After the impromptu ceremony had dispersed, she had been pulled aside by Vivienne; the First Enchanter seemed pleased that it was Ana who now led them, perhaps she felt that her appointment would aid her, that it would make Ana more open to fulfilling her desires for the future.

For the moment, Ana was just trying to get her bearings, what she had accepted was no small thing.

She needed to remember who she was, to make sure that she kept both feet firmly planted on the ground.

She had no desire to let the power that Cassandra and the others had offered her consume her.

She smiled slightly.

Speaking of the Seeker, she was following after her and Vivienne, Solas at her side. The elf looked concerned about something, whatever it was; she would do what she could to give all her allies a fair hearing.

Vivienne glared at the approaching apostate.

"I had hoped to speak with you alone, my dear," she cooed, "But it seems that that will not happen."

The elf bowed slightly to Ana.

"My apologies for interrupting, my friend," he said to her, "But I feared that the First Enchanter might bend your ear to what she wants before you have all the facts."

The circle mage smiled venomously.

"And what facts are those, darling? Do you not think that the Inquisitor needs to know that we have a dire threat in our midst?"

"Do you truly feel so threatened, Lady Vivienne?" he asked.

The mage frowned.

"I merely see the truth, something that you choose to ignore. I…"

"Enough," Cassandra said with a sigh, "Bickering like this gets us nowhere."

Ana glanced back and forth between the mages, she could not have said it better herself.

"Okay, you two," she sighed, "Let's hear it, what is this threat that has you both so rattled?"

It was Cassandra that answered her.

"This is about Cole, Inquisitor," the Seeker said, "He has been travelling with us since we fled Haven, as you know."

Ana nodded, so far so good, but that still did not explain the near argument between Solas and Vivienne.

"We thought Cole a mage, given the rather…unusual abilities he possesses."

Ana blinked, she remembered how the boy interacted with Chancellor Roderick, unusual perhaps, but necessarily threatening.

"What kind of abilities?" she asked.

"Cole can make people forget about him, and even fail to notice his presence, even if he is standing right next to them," Solas added, "These are not the abilities of a mage, however."

Ana swallowed hard.

"Then…what is he, if he is not a mage?"

Vivienne scowled at the elf.

"**It** is a **demon**, Inquisitor," she spat, "This…thing that we call Cole **is **a demon from the fade."

Solas' ears twitched with irritation.

"He is a _spirit_, Ana," the apostate clarified, "but unlike any other spirit I've ever encountered. Cole…is…unique."

"That does **not** change what he is," Vivienne said, she turned to Ana.

"Send him away, Inquisitor, please, for all we know this creature was summoned up by the Venatori, he maybe a spy for the Elder One himself."

"There is no proof of that," Solas frowned.

Ana shook her head.

Cole…was a spirit? It seemed far-fetched; the boy looked nothing like the demons that they had encountered before.

She turned to Solas.

"You said Cole was unique, Solas. What did you mean by that?"

The elf sighed, and gathered his wits.

"Typically, when a spirit enters our world, Ana, it does so through possession. The spirit anchors itself onto something here in our world. When a demon does this, it changes its host, twists it into what the circle calls an Abomination."

Ana nodded.

"Is Cole possessed then? Has some spirit settled into his body?"

"I do not believe so," Solas added, "Cole has possessed no one, he looks like a young man, because he chooses to look like a young man. For all intended purposes, he **is** a young man. It is quite remarkable actually."

The Inquisitor's head swam.

So…the boy that saved them…not only wasn't he human, but he had somehow willfully manifested himself into human form.

"Did he pass through one of the rifts?" the herald inquired.

"No, Cole predates the breach it seems," the apostate added, "The demons that have appeared through the rifts were pulled through against their wills. The process drove them insane. Cole is clearly not insane, not in the way those creatures are, at least. He is…troubled, but that is likely from the loneliness he has been forced to endure. From speaking with him, I believe that he has been in our world for months, maybe even years before the Conclave was destroyed."

Vivienne snorted again.

She gave Ana a worried look.

"That does not change what it is, my dear. This…_thing_ is trying to deceive us, whether it realizes it or not. You had best be wary of it."

The new Inquisitor looked at Cassandra, she trusted Solas, and his advice, but she did not have the same experience with dealing with the creatures of the fade that the Seeker did.

Cassandra sighed.

"If Cole had been discovered by the chantry," she said, "He likely would have been put to the sword by the Templars, without further examination. If he is a spirit as Solas claims, he is a threat.

The elf gave her a cold look.

"Some could say the same about an apostate," he reminded her.

She glared right back at him; she clearly did not appreciate being interrupted.

"Let me finish, Solas," Cassandra said sharply.

The elf's mouth snapped shut.

He fell silent.

Vivienne smirked at him, but said nothing else.

Cassandra returned her attention to the herald, the girl she looked as not only their leader, but as an apprentice, and a friend.

"I believe we should be wary, that you should be wary. As Inquisitor, Cole's fate is up to you, of course, but if I have learned anything from working with you over the last few months, Ana, it is that snap judgments are not always the wisest."

The Seeker pursed her lips.

"I was wrong about you, in the beginning," she admitted, " We gave you a chance and you proved yourself, perhaps Cole should be given the same."

Vivienne blinked.

"Seeker! Surely…surely you do not mean…?"

Cassandra raised her hand.

"I leave this up to the Inquisitor," she said flatly, "As should you, Lady Vivienne."

All three of them looked at Ana, the questions in their eyes made her more than uncomfortable.

_Ah, the joys of leadership_, she thought.

She shook her head wistfully, in this moment she found that she had gained a bit of respect for her mother, matriarch and leader of House Trevelyan.

Lady Aliza had made these kinds of decisions every day for more years than she liked to think about. She had carried the fortunes of their noble family in her hands, and at the same time still trying to guide her three children down the proper course.

The fact that mother had not gone crazy after all that was an impressive feat in and of itself, what all that meant…the wisdom that was needed to carry out such a feat.

Ana found herself wishing that she had half of her mother's determination and strength. She definitely could have used it right now, and would likely need more in the days to come.

She coughed nervously.

_I wonder if it is still too late to run away?_

Ana sighed heavily.

She rubbed at her marked hand idly.

"Before I make any decision on this, I want to speak with Cole. He did not have to warn us about the Venatori and the Red Templars but he did, that entitles him to at least some compassion on our part, I think."

Vivienne left quickly, muttering under her breath. Solas seemed pleased with her decision at least.

Cassandra reached out and touched the girl's shoulder.

"Be careful, Ana," the warrior woman advised.

The herald nodded, emboldened by the Seeker's faith in her.

"Has anyone seen Cole today?" she asked.

The Seeker shook her head.

"With his ability to make people forget he was ever there, he could have been listening to our entire conversation and we would not even remember him."

Ana frowned.

_She had not thought about that?_

_Creepy._

"I've seen Cole more often than not, near the wounded and sick refugees," Solas informed her, "If you wish to find him, that maybe the best place to start looking."

She nodded again, and made for the healers' tent. She had been meaning to speak with the mages there for a while now. This little side mission looking for Cole was as good a reason as any to finally take that next step.

The Inquisitor frowned slightly.

What was she going to say to him? Hi, so you're really a spirit, huh? That must be a little strange."

She almost rolled her eyes at that.

Now was not the time for her to take this lightly. Cassandra was not wrong that Cole might be a threat. He was certainly not helpless, that was for certain.

She remembered that dead Venatori scout back in Haven, Cole had cut his throat down to the neck bone. He clearly was no stranger to knives and daggers.

How could you protect yourself from a killer that you did not even know was around you, more importantly, how could you defend yourself if you forgot about him as soon as he left the room?

Dangerous questions all.

Her fingers glided lightly over the hilt of her new sword.

She was the Inquisitor. She owed it to the others to see this mess through, to make the best decision.

…And hopefully, the right one as well.

IOI

_Pain._

_White hot! The fire of a thousand suns burning my flesh._

_Aching._

_Tearing. Burning._

_Great Maker, Am…am I dying?_

_I…I can't…can't…can't…_

"Gone," Cole said flatly.

He moved to and fro among the wounded, the helpless, the hopeless.

Pain…so much pain, but…he could help. He could try.

It was the least he could do.

He drifted over to the next one. He…

"Cole?"

He paused, a new voice, a real voice among the cacophony.

It was she, red hair, the one they called the Herald.

He glanced up, regarding her with his sad eyes, pushing back his hat so that he could see her better.

"Yes," he said softly.

The Herald smiled at him, it had been a long time since anyone had smiled at him.

"Can…can I speak with you?"

He shrugged, her words were welcome. She was not loud like the others; her thoughts were calm, funny even sometimes. She hurt too. She needed too, but unlike these, she had the strength to go on. He…

He turned his head.

"Hot…so very hot," he murmured.

He drifted over to a wounded soldier; his face burned the pain haunting him since they found him lying outside of Haven.

"Hot…Hot like, the summers back home."

"The smell of wild flowers, wreathing Mya's hair on our wedding day, soft breeze, the smell of my daughter's hair when I kiss her good night. I…I want…I can't…"

Cole shook his head.

"Dead," he said flatly.

He moved onto the next one.

Pain, so much pain, but he did not stop.

He could help, the hopeless, the hurt.

He had to try.

IOI

Ana blinked as she watched him, this sad boy, no older than she…yet…recognizing at last that he was something more.

Spirit? Demon? Young man?

Was he all of these things, or none of them, she could not be sure.

She heard his mutterings watching as he passed from one dying soldier to the next.

She winced at the sight.

_Hello, creepy_, she thought.

She pushed such thoughts away.

What was going on here was not evil, in his strange way, Cole was trying to help.

"Dry, cracked, throat…so…dry, Andraste have mercy please," he murmured.

"Um," she shuffled nervously, "Would you like to go somewhere…ah… more quiet," she asked, "So we could talk?"

"Yes," he said softly, "But I can do more here. I can hear more here."

He picked up a water skin from the ground. He approached a female soldier lying on a cot.

He smiled weakly at her.

"Here," he said, holding up her head so that she could drink, she took several quick gulps.

She smiled at him.

"Thank…thank you," she murmured.

"It…it is all right," he cooed, "You will forget me once I'm gone."

He moved on to the next one.

Ana's eyes widened slightly.

"You…you are using your powers as a spirit to help people?"

That made the boy pause.

"Yes," he said quietly, "I help the hurt, the helpless."

He glanced down at the next man, his face and side heavily bandaged.

Cole frowned.

"Pain, sharp…like a thousand knives slicing through my flesh. No relief, no relief…."

The boy winced.

Please…Andraste…help me! Make it stop! Horrible! Nothing left but pain! Andraste help me please!"

He drew a wicked looking dagger from his belt. It looked almost ceremonial, like something an Avvar might carry.

Ana tensed. The boy fingered the blade; he turned it over as he regarded the cold steel of it.

He glanced up at her, his pained eyes all but hidden behind dirty yellow bangs.

"The healers have done all they can for him," Cole informed her, "It…it will take hours for him to die, agony will be all he knows…until…until the end."

He held up the dagger.

"May…May I help him?"

Ana's eyes widened.

_Was…was he asking for permission to…to…_

_Oh Maker._

She glanced down at the wounded man; she could hear his labored breathing, see his fists clenching the sides of the cot. Part of her wanted to hope that there was more than could be done, that one of the mages perhaps…could…

She looked down at the soldier's body, she saw the mark there. The one that meant the healers had done all they could, but it likely still would not help.

Ana swallowed hard.

She did not want the poor man to suffer, but at the same time…

She looked up at Cole. Tears ran from her eyes.

"Help him," she said softly, "Make it painless if you can."

The boy nodded.

"Shh," he whispered, "It is okay now, you will be okay."

He slid the dagger between the man's ribs, he tensed for a moment, and then the body went slack.

"Gone," Cole murmured.

Ana shivered.

It had been a cold mercy, but a mercy none the less. Could the man have recovered? Unlikely, but…

Cole wiped off his dagger. He sighed heavily.

"I used to think that I was a ghost," he whispered, "I was alone, unseen by most, only those that needed me could see, and they wanted only one thing."

He shook his head, and wiped idly at his nose with his sleeve.

"They call you the herald, yes? You are in the thoughts of many here, the helpless, the hurt. Are…are you going to save them?"

She shifted her feet uncomfortably.

"I…I'm going to try."

He nodded, and walked away from the wounded, she followed not wishing to lose him again, not wanting to forget him.

He pulled his hat down farther over his eyes.

"I used to think I was a ghost," he repeated, "Then a Templar proved that I wasn't real."

The boy stiffened slightly. Ana saw his hand drift back to his dagger, the tenseness of his posture suggested that he was about to spring a predator on the hunt.

It reminded her that this boy was not simply a victim, he could be dangerous too, but that did not change what he was trying to do, trying to be.

She smiled slightly and reached out to him, touching his arm.

He tensed but did nothing to stop her; he looked down at her hand.

She smiled slightly.

"You feel pretty real to me," she said soothingly.

Cole relaxed.

"After the Templar," he sighed, "I learned how to be more like I was, what I truly am, to use what I am to help…to help the hurt, the helpless."

He touched her hand, his touch soft, yet pleading, needing to be reassured that it was real.

"Do you see that, herald," he asked, "I only want to help."

She smiled at him.

"I see it, Cole," she answered, "But you do not have to call me herald."

She grinned at him.

"My friends call me, Ana."

"Ana," he said softly, feeling the word rolling off his tongue.

It must have been a long time since he had said another person's name, since they had given it to him.

He shook his head mournfully.

"I had friends once, but they are all gone now, once the Templar proved I wasn't real."

His lips curled slightly, not a smile, but a ghost of one.

"Why?" he asked, "Why would you want to be my friend?"

She sighed.

"Because…because I know what it is like to be alone," she answered.

Cole shivered.

"I…I don't want to be alone anymore," he said softly, "I…I want to stay."

Ana sighed.

Vivienne was going to be pissed, and she would have to remain vigilant around this…boy, but it was clear that he was not her enemy.

The Inquisition was more than just the faithful after all; it was a collection of misfits as well.

Qunari spy turned mercenary, Tevinter Pariah, a mad elven archer, among these surely a ghost-boy could find his place.

Was he a spirit, a demon? She could not be sure yet, but it was clear that he was not simply a ghost.

She would not forget.

She would not let this poor soul be forgotten.

She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Welcome to the Inquisition Cole," she whispered.

He paused, digesting this for a moment, and then…he nodded slightly.

He said only two words more, before he disappeared back into the shadows of the keep, but Ana still remembered him, he had not made her forget.

That was a good thing, a good start, just two words.

"Thank you."


	39. A Mother's Duty

**Chapter 39: A Mother's Duty**

"**Mother! This…this farce can no longer be allowed to stand!"**

Aliza Amelia Trevelyan arched an eyebrow at her eldest child. Normally, Elizabeth was a cool reasoned young woman, not given to flights of panic. Unless of course the extreme and unexpected arose…in the times when all that she had been taught was brought into question.

Times like these, the elder Trevelyan thought. Was it any wonder that her heir was so troubled; of course; it was not entirely her fault now was it? Nature was as much to blame here than world events, Aliza understood that better than anyone. Three times she had been in her eldest child's place.

She knew what was to come, and how trying it would be on young Elizabeth.

The matriarch of House Trevelyan did not blame her; she could see the circles around the young woman's eyes, the paleness of her features.

It was something she remembered quite well from her youth.

_Morning sickness had always been bad for the women in their family._

Elizabeth had married two months ago, and had spent her honeymoon in Wycome along the western coast of the Free Marches. She and her husband, Lord Miles, had only returned only two weeks ago, the young man having done his duty to their family, getting her eldest with child, and providing Lady Aliza with the first of her grandchildren and the next heir of their house.

The noble smiled slightly at the thought, no matter what chaos reigned in the world around them, life continued to go on.

It was something to cling to at least in these most unsettling times.

This should have been a happy time for the noble matriarch, a chance to prepare her daughter, for the trials of motherhood, alas, that was simply not the case.

The world continued to intrude on what should have been gleeful times, and at its center, the one person that Lady Aliza had never dreamed would threaten the future of their family.

Her youngest child…her dear Anastasia, so much was being said about her now, so many had views about who she was and what was going on. They called her so many things: the pawn, the blasphemer, the heretic…

The elder noble pursed her lips; two more titles had been added to her youngest's list of colorful names lately.

Inquisitor was one.

The other, if you believed the Inquisition soldiers that were based here…was messiah.

Lady Aliza shook her head.

My daughter, she thought, the messiah.

If that was true, if what she had heard about her daughter **was** true, than the Maker had an interesting sense of humor indeed. Of all the people in Thedas…if Andraste had to choose a messenger…?

Why Anastasia?

At first the Inquisition had been an oddity, few had taken it seriously, they had seen it as the Divine's advisors lashing out against the world in grief over her death. Ove the last few months it had turned into something more and that scared a lot of people, Aliza's oldest daughter among them.

Elizabeth continued to pace before her, the worried frown on her face never lightening for a moment.

"Mother, are you listening to me?"

Aliza Trevelyan nodded.

"Of course, my dear girl," she cooed.

She rose from her chair, her black gown spreading out around her as she moved, she shook her head regally. Her red hair tinged with grey still flowed like the main of a lion. Aliza had been quite the beauty in her youth, much as her eldest was now. She was still considered a handsome woman by most, though her days of courting were long past.

She **had** considered marrying again, of course, for companionship if nothing else, but recognized that that might put the family at risk, if she took a new lord husband, his family might just try to claim what she had spent years cementing for her children.

She would not allow that to come to pass. She loved her family, and her children.

She would let nothing threaten either of them.

The two nobles were meeting in the main sitting room of the Trevelyan estate in Ostwick. Aliza had always loved this room, not just for the company that attended to her here, but the excellent view as well. Behind the two nobles, two massive windows gave them a full view of the rest of their home city below, the grandeur and beauty that was their beloved Ostwick. On a clear day, you could see all the way to the double walls that surrounded the great city, but today a grey mist hid that wonder from view. The Teyrn's palace dominated most of that skyline, shining in its opulence, it was more subdued than the say the Prince's palace in Starkhaven, but none in Ostwick would ever say such a thing to the Teyrn. Then there was the great market square spreading out before the estates like a bright colorful blanket, placed on the ground before a picnic.

To the left rose the chantry, its great doors sealed in these troubled times, with no Templars left to defend it, the clerics had retreated inside, wallowing in self-pity and worry.

Aliza stood before the window, staring out over their beloved home. Once again she noticed a new wrinkle in the market below, something that in her eyes, took away from the beauty of the scene. The recently constructed gallows, ordered by both the Teyrn and members of his royal court, it was a dark thing to be sure, but, in the eyes of the Teyrn, a necessary one. Members of the city watch stood guard nearby, making sure no one got too close to the grisly scene playing out there.

The noble lady sighed.

There…dangling like a pair of lost puppets, creaking in the breeze, two Templar corpses could be seen clearly; even from this distance the armor of the order was unmistakable. As was the message made by letting the men continue to hang there.

Aliza pursed her lips in disgust, not at the death, but that such a scene had intruded on her noble sensibilities.

The Templars, Ser Karl and Ser Gaffney had both been born right here in Ostwick, though she had never met them personally, the Revered Mother, who she shared tea with her every Tuesday, had once lauded Ser Karl personally. Both had left when the Lord Seeker had ordered the Templars to join him in Val Royeaux, two months ago, they had returned…

They had said that they wished to rejoin the chantry, but instead tried to assassinate the Teyrn and his family.

Lady Trevelyan's eyes narrowed.

It had been quite the scandal, the clerics had welcomed the two back with open arms, and the first thing that they did was let foreigners into the city, Tevinter assassins all apparently.

If the Teyrn had died it likely would have destabilized Ostwick, had it discovered the killers had been Templars it would have further weakened the already reeling chantry.

When the Teyrn had been saved, it had been a relief to everyone, but even then they had more questions than answers.

It was not the Teyrn's men who prevented this plot; they had been as blind as the mothers had been. Agents of the Inquisition, local born all, had uncovered the plot. These men and women had never even seen the village of Haven or the Conclave, they had simply been good people recruited into the fledging order by men and women who had come from the south eager to spread the word of the Divine's final directive, and the legend of the Herald of Andraste.

They had led the Teyrn's men to these…Venatori as they called themselves, the Tevinters had all been killed, but the Templars remained.

Elizabeth had thought this all some plot by what she called, "those Inquisition people," she believed that Ser Karl and Ser Gaffney had been framed, to make the Inquisition look better to the Teyrn.

Aliza had considered such a thing herself, until the day of the execution.

Karl and Gaffney had emerged from the dungeons snarling like animals, their eyes glowing red, what looked like red crystals growing from their scalps.

They had glared at the Teyrn and the assembled nobles.

"The true god will curse you all," Karl howled, "When the Elder One ascends to the throne in the Black City you will all burn, he will raise us from the dead, and you will see his true might. He will lead the Templars to their true destiny, independence, and power in the new Empire! The Maker has abandoned us. Praise be the Elder One! Praise his name!"

"Praise his name," Gaffney giggled.

The men went to their deaths, continuing to shout their blasphemy.

What she had seen that day, what she had heard, had disturbed Lady Aliza greatly. She had family within the Templars, two younger cousins, and at least four nieces and nephews and both her husband and her side of the family.

She had heard nothing from any of them; they had just vanished when the Lord Seeker put out the call. Were they alive, or dead? She did not know. She only hoped that they had not turned into…things like the two Templars hanging in the square had.

She prayed for their souls, and wondered what was happening to make their world fall apart so quickly.

After that, Aliza Trevelyan began to take a new look at the Inquisition, a harder look indeed.

IOI

Aliza said nothing as her daughter continued to drone on about her fear of all the new Inquisition soldiers arriving in Ostwick, they said they were here to protect the chantry and hunt Venatori cultists, but her eldest child did not believe them.

That was good, Aliza realized, she did not want her heir to be gullible, but she did not want her to be close minded as well.

The Lady was no spymaster, but she still heard things, and she had been paying attention to the Inquisition since it had first formed in the village of Haven, how could she not after the destruction of the Conclave?

The death of so many, the murder of not only the Divine, but the Trevelyan entourage as well, the death of poor Randolph Trevelyan, a more pious man she had never known…

And…the death of her young daughter, when word had first hit of the Conclave, word that there were no survivors, Aliza's heart had shattered.

She…she did not show it as much as she should, but that did not mean that she did not love her daughter. She loved Anastasia, as much as she loved Elizabeth and Andreas. The loss of even one of her lambs had broken her heart.

She…she coldly began to prepare for the funeral, saddened that she had no body to burn, and then…a few days later…word of the Herald of Andraste first began to circulate. Word of Anastasia Trevelyan, the lone survivor of the Conclave, and hero of the fight against the breach.

Aliza could not believe it, her daughter was alive! Anastasia was alive!

She had wanted to believe it, but she was cautious as well. Anyone could claim a name after all, what if this…this Herald of Andraste was an imposter, a girl merely posing as her daughter, that she was just using a noble name to give the fledging order more legitimacy?

When the chantry declared Anastasia a heretic and false prophet, she said nothing. When they claimed that she had assassinated the Divine and blew up the Conclave, Aliza bided her time. When her friends in the chantry came to her demanding that she rein in her rebellious child, that she convince Anastasia to turn herself in for judgment, the lady merely promised to do what she could on the matter.

She waited and she watched.

When Anastasia contacted Berrick in the Trevelyan Estate in Val Royeaux, she dispatched Elizabeth to see this…_girl_ for herself, to make sure that it was truly Anastasia, and not some imposter. If it was an imposter, the family would deal with it, if it was truly Anastasia, Elizabeth was to convince her to come home, and give up this ridiculous crusade.

That plan…had not ended well.

Elizabeth returned in a panic, claiming that it was **not** in fact Anastasia, that it was some demon thing with a ball of burning magic for a right hand. She advised her mother to cut all ties with this…this…thing, and distance the family as much as she could from the Inquisition and anyone who served them.

Aliza had done the prudent thing, and listened. Her youngest child had made no attempt to contact her, for all the noble woman knew, what her daughter was telling her was correct. That Ana was dead, and this was some…thing conjured up by the Inquisition and its mage allies.

That did not mean that she stopped watching however.

She expected that the Inquisition would attempt to usurp House Trevelyan holdings that did not happen. She expected them to strike at the Chantry itself that did not happen. The Inquisition continued to roll on building alliances and aiding those in need.

This…did not act like an order eager to steal power for itself.

When the mage rebellion formally joined the Inquisition and ended its war with the Templars. She had expected peace, surely with the circle collared again the Templars would return to the fold of the righteous that did not happen. Instead they had chosen to ally with a group of Tevinter heretics, heretics that seemed to have the ability to change these good men and women into monsters, and still the chantry remained silent. They remained hiding within the Grand Cathedral, promising to elect a new Divine to deal with this crisis, but not giving an idea of when that vote would take place.

Then three weeks ago, she had learned of the destruction of Haven. The Inquisition had been attacked by a dragon some said, an Archdemon others said. It was believed that the Inquisition leadership was all dead, that their herald was dead.

For the second time Lady Aliza mourned, she did so privately though, grateful that Elizabeth was away on her honeymoon.

Her poor little girl, her Anastasia, she had always been hard on her, but that was because she wished to do best for the girl, what was best for their family.

Then again, she received news; the Inquisition leadership had survived Haven. They had fled west, deeper into the Frostback Mountains and into Orlais. Rumor spoke of a great Inquisition fortress hidden in the mountains, prepared for the time when the true murderer of the Divine revealed himself. Others said that this fortress was a gift from Andraste herself, a gift given to the faithful by her loyal herald, the Lady Ana.

Aliza almost snorted at that.

It seemed that no one addressed her child by her full name any longer, it was always just Ana…her choosing to use it had always been a polite form of rebellion, it annoyed Lady Aliza, but at the same time…it pleased her as well.

The fact that her youngest never totally bent made her proud. She was still a Trevelyan after all.

A true noble knew when to bend, but never broke.

The Inquisition had now named Anastasia their leader. It had been **she** that had sent Inquisition soldiers here to Ostwick, to watch for signs of treachery.

After what the two Templars had tried, it was clear that that choice had been a wise one.

Alize sighed.

That is what it came down to wasn't it, a choice?

She could no longer be content just sitting back and watching. Rumors continued to grow more outlandish when it came to the Inquisition. One claimed that Anastasia would soon march on Orlais, that she would overthrow Celene, and murder Grand Duke Gaspard, that she would assume the title of both Divine and Empress, and from there make war on the Qunari and Tevinter, a new great crusade.

Another claimed that she would first unify the Free Marches under her banner, and from there make war on Orlais, it was said that one of her advisors was a Qunari and she was secretly allied with the Qun.

That little tale caused great fear here in Ostwick; memories of when the Qunari marched through the city during the last exalted march still caused many nobles to feel faint.

Aliza did not think that her daughter would ever go that far.

Then there was the report that she had taken on a Tevinter husband, a mage son of one of the members of the Magisterium. The tale claimed that she would use both the free mages and Tevinter to force the world back under the Imperium's shroud.

Aliza had tracked that particular rumor to its source a young mother who was hoping to throw her name into the race to become the next Divine.

Aliza had not hesitated.

It was a shame the poor dear fell off her horse and broke her neck.

Yes, too many were choosing to listen to these ridiculous rumors, she could no longer count herself among them.

She needed to know the truth.

The noble sighed.

She had put off making one for too long.

It was time to make her choice.

IOI

"What are we going to do mother?" Elizabeth asked, "What are we going to do about Anastasia…the thing pretending to be Anastasia?"

The elder noble sighed.

"We **are** going to do something child," she promised, "You are going to remain here and protect the family. I…shall journey to this Skyhold place."

She smiled grimly.

"It is time I spoke with this…Inquisitor."

Elizabeth's eyes widened.

"**Mother! You can't!"**

"I _must_."

"You don't know these Inquisition people. They are thugs and hoodlums!"

"I shall see that for myself."

"They will make you a hostage," the girl gasped, "Or use their mages to mind control you."

Aliza laughed lightly.

"Which is why you must remain here," she said sagely, "You carry the future of our family within you now my dear, one day you will understand the value of your children, just as I do."

The elder woman sighed.

"I will not leave one of my children in the embrace of darkness. If this Inquisitor is the monster that you claim…"

"She is."

"Then I will see it for myself."

Elizabeth sobbed, she looked terrified.

"_Mother?"_

Aliza sighed and embraced the younger woman.

She rocked the girl as she had when she was a child.

"Fear not, my treasure," she cooed, "I will not face this alone. Ser Geoffrey's men will protect me."

The girl pulled back and sniffled.

"But what of magic, Mother," she whimpered, "These Inquisition people have powerful magic."

Aliza smiled at that.

"I will not be unprotected on that front either, my dear."

There was a light knock on the sitting room door.

The elder noble smiled.

_Ah, just in time._

"Enter," she said.

The door opened allowing a young man to enter, he was a few years older than Elizabeth, tall and broad shouldered, his red hair was cut short, with a short goatee and curled mustache. His blue eyes sparkled mischievously in the light coming through the windows.

Which was not surprising, Aliza thought, the boy had been a terrible troublemaker in his youth.

His features marked him as a Trevelyan, but the dark robes he wore made it clear that this was not just another Trevelyan noble. A whitewood staff was strapped to his back, the crystal atop it gave off a diffused blue light.

He bowed elegantly.

"You sent for me Aunt Aliza?" he said in a rich voice.

Elizabeth sniffled as she regarded the man.

Aliza's smile widened.

She looked at her surprised daughter.

"You remember your cousin Maxwell; do you not, my dear?"

The girl nodded, but still seemed a little apprehensive.

"Hello Maxie," she said shyly.

"Cousin Elizabeth," he said gallantly, a cheery smile on his face, always eager to serve.

The heir of House Trevelyan did not look comfortable in his presence, but that was no surprise.

Elizabeth had never been…comfortable around magic, even if it was wielded by a family member.

She would need to grow out of that, in time.

Maxwell Trevelyan, formerly Enchanter Maxwell of the Ostwick circle of magi had not joined the rebels when the circle had collapsed. Instead, he had come here, throwing himself on the mercy of his aunt, asking for sanctuary.

With the Templars off to fight the mages, Aliza had seen little threat in allowing this. Maxwell had visited here many times. The son of her husband's youngest sister, the young man had never doubted his place in the way things were. Magic was to serve, and never to rule. He had been a loyalist in the fraternities when they had still been allowed by the chantry.

Aliza sighed.

She had given serious thought to sending him instead of Anastasia to the Conclave all those months ago, but poor Randolph would not here of it. He thought the boy an apostate, and that he had no place among the faithful. She had acquiesced and sent her youngest daughter instead.

The noble woman shivered.

_Had she not, would things have been different? Better or worse, she could not say?_

The elder noble gave the mage a pointed look.

"I need to speak with your Cousin Anastasia, Maxwell," she informed him, "That means seeking out the Inquisition, but I fear that magic maybe a threat to me on this journey."

The mage shrugged.

"Say no more Aunt Aliza, my power and protection are yours of course."

"Thank you dear boy," she said with a nod.

Maxwell chuckled.

"It will be interesting to see my old colleagues again," he said, "and I've heard a lot of stories about this Inquisition…"

The mage smiled.

"This should be most interesting, most interesting indeed.


	40. In Dreams

**Chapter 40: In Dreams**

"_Why are we here?"_

_Solas barely even paused as he and Ana made their way through the quiet streets of Haven, the snow crunching under their boots, the sound of the mountain winds whistling gently through the cabins, and past the stones that lined the path leading up to the chantry. _

_The elf chuckled slightly._

"_We are here Ana because this place is familiar. I can think of no better place for us to discuss my work and how it relates to you, than here."_

_He smiled slightly._

"_Haven will always be important to you. That is one thing that will never change."_

_The Herald considered his words; she looked up at the buildings and sighed. She found herself thinking back to almost a year ago now; when she had first seen this village, and had been disappointed at how rustic it had looked._

_A frozen hole she had called it. Certainly not a fitting place for anyone to live, that was for sure._

_Now…she found that she missed it and all the people they had been forced to…to…_

_Ana blinked, as Solas' staff tapped loudly on the hard stone floor , she remembered to watch her step, the frosty steps that led down to the reliquary beneath the chantry of Haven could be treacherous at the best of times. She shifted uncomfortably, the ragged and burnt noble gown that she wore was little defense against the cold, her bare feet did little to help her keep her balance at the stairs._

_She found herself standing in the largest part of the lower levels, the area that Cassandra and Leliana had converted into a prison cell after the Conclave, her prison cell._

_She looked at the empty shackles, the metal bar that had dug into her wrists, even as the mark on her hand began its work of devouring her flesh._

"_Tell me why we should not simply kill you now?"_

_The herald shivered at that memory._

_She glanced over at Solas; the elf had an amused look on his face._

"_This is where we first met," he murmured, "It was here that the Seeker brought me, and it is here where you slept."_

_He pointed to a spot next to the empty shackles._

"_I sat right there, examining you, and studying the anchor."_

_Ana chuckled slightly._

"_It must have been terribly boring."_

"_It was a mystery, much like the breach itself. I needed time to understand what I was dealing with, to try and understand what you were…"_

_The elf's ears twitched with amusement._

"_Cassandra threatened to have me executed as an apostate. She thought I might be stalling for some reason."_

_Ana's eyes narrowed._

"_I would never have allowed that."_

_Solas smiled._

"_You were in no condition to say anything about it I'm afraid."_

_He turned; as she followed they found themselves standing on the path heading towards Adan's cabin. Solas had made him home not far from there._

_Ana once again armed and armored followed in his wake. She…she felt…_

_What was going on here?_

"_You were never supposed to wake up," he said smiling, "A mortal girl, sent physically into the fade. You should **never** have woken up. I chose to remain here, even as the breach grew unchecked. All the magic I had learned had no effect on it. The spirits I might have consulted, who might have helped me had all fled, the breach affecting them."_

_He sighed and shook his head._

"_I had all but given up, but then I made a decision," he looked up at the sky, the breach swirled in the distance, that strange yellow green glow reflecting off the mountain peaks._

"_One last attempt to try and seal the breach that is what I told myself, if it failed…I would run, but I could not simply flee without trying…."_

_She smiled warmly at him._

"_I'm glad you stayed."_

"_As am I," he agreed._

_He gave her an enigmatic look._

"_Then you woke up, Ana. Then you found Varric and I, and…"_

"_GIRL!" he shouted._

_He seized her wrist, forcing it up towards the fade rift; they stood on the same ruined bridge where she had first met Solas and Varric._

_The anchor flared and the rift closed._

_Ana shook her head, it…she…she felt so strange._

_She blinked, her head suddenly feeling very fuzzy._

"_Solas?" she murmured._

_The elf grinned at her._

"_You still continue to break the laws of gods and men, my friend. I suspect you will break even __**more **__before you are done…"_

_His ears twitched with amusement._

"_For you to visit me here, and you not being a mage," he smiled grandly, "It is extraordinary!"_

_Ana looked around, the memory of Corypheus' attack on Haven flooded back. She looked up at the breach, they had closed it. She had closed it._

_She thought of how she had gotten here, how she had left the dungeon beneath the chantry. She did not remember the journey._

_She remembered asking Solas about his work. It had been late, and she had been having trouble sleeping…_

_Sleeping?_

_She blinked._

_The elf smiled, realizing that she had finally figured out the truth._

_She looked around her._

"_This…this isn't real?"_

_The elf chuckled again._

"_That is a matter of perspective," he laughed, "Perhaps we can talk about it in greater detail…once you…"_

_His smile widened._

"_Wake up, Ana," he purred._

IOI

The Inquisitor gasped. She bolted upright in her bed; she blinked…the memory of the dream of Haven so vivid in her mind.

She blinked and rubbed her eyes.

Maker, she thought, was that? Was I speaking to Solas…in…in my…?

She smiled.

He had been right, she realized.

It had been…extraordinary!

She pushed back the covers from her bed and rose. Dawn was only just starting to lighten the mountain peaks in the east.

She glanced around her private quarters; her room in upper levels of Skyhold keep.

She shook her head slightly.

They had come so far in such a short period of time.

It was…impressive.

They had been at Skyhold for just under a month now, but they had made strides. The keep had finally been declared safe by the dwarven masons brought in by Ambassador Montilyet. Less than a day later the Inquisition had moved the bulk of their operations inside. The throne room, the war room, and most of the private quarters had been furnished for comfort and the officers and officials of the Inquisition had moved in.

Two days ago, the furnishing that Ana had requested arrived from the Trevelyan estate in Orlais, her bed, her father's books, as well as a few other familial nick-knacks to make her feel more at home.

She shivered as she slipped her heavy robe over her silk nightgown. The mountain cold still bit at her, but no longer did she feel that they were living in some backwater.

She walked out onto the balcony of her apartment, the Frostbacks stretched out as far as her eyes could see. Somewhere past those snowy peaks was the heartland of the Empire of Orlais.

Her expression turned hard.

The work of stopping Corypheus would start there.

Unlike the breach, the Orlesian Civil War was a known problem for the Inquisition, they knew the causes and the players, and after Ana's trip into the future, she knew what Corypheus was planning.

Assassinate Empress Celene and use the chaos to conquer the Empire for Tevinter.

She glanced down at the anchor on her hand. In that dark future that she and Dorian had visited, that is exactly what had happened…

She smiled grimly.

Things would happen differently this time.

Word had already reached the Inquisition of Celene's grand masquerade ball at the Winter Palace near Halamshiral. The Empress was planning on using the ball to hold peace talks with her cousin Grand Duke Gaspard, her greatest rival for the throne.

Ana grimaced, a ball like that would be an easy place for an assassin to hide. It would be the perfect place for a very public and politically motivated spot of regicide.

The Inquisition had tried to send warnings to Celene and the court, but not a one had made it through. No response had come, which meant that either the Empress was ignoring them, or she was not receiving their letters.

The former was stupid, the latter was proof that Corypheus already had his pawns in place, and the Inquisitor knew that the Empress was no fool.

Corypheus was already prepared to make his next move, now she had to answer it.

Josephine was working on getting her an Invitation to the ball, while Leliana's agents continued to try and contact Celene directly.

The herald sighed.

The Inquisition would be there when the monster made his move against Celene. Corypheus had a made a bold statement when he attacked Haven. She needed to make an equally bold move, to show the beast that he had not succeeded in breaking his enemies.

Whoever this assassin was, she was determined to send their head back to the Venatori on a silver platter, perhaps with a polite note:

_Dear Corypheus,_

_Better luck next time!_

_Best Wishes,_

_Inquisitor Anastasia Aliza Trevelyan_

She chuckled slightly.

Okay, so no note, still…the head would definitely make a statement.

The right one, she hoped.

There was a slight knock on the door.

She turned, and invited her servants to enter.

Both Josephine and Vivienne had suggested that she bring in a personal staff to attend to her needs. Now that she was Inquisitor, she needed to maintain an air of prestige when staying here in Skyhold, visiting dignitaries would expect nothing less.

She had grudgingly agreed.

Three of them came from her estate in Orlais; the fourth was the elven woman who had tended to her cabin in Haven. It had taken months but finally the girl had stopped stammering in fear around her.

Shock and awe was all well and good, but not when she was being served her breakfast. Fearful hands tended to shake and make an awful mess.

She settled in at her small meal table, while the servants hurried about her room, making the bed and finding her the proper attire for the day's meetings. She also read her first reports of the day, information collected by Leliana's people, or Cullen's military scouts.

The Inquisitor frowned.

Thinking of the handsome commander had reminded her of an incident that had happened several days ago. They had just concluded a war council meeting, and Ana had a few hours before she had to meet the latest noble ambassador to grace Skyhold with his or her presence.

She had hoped to get some training time in with Cullen. Cassandra had been too busy of late to continue with her training, running down a lead on a demon that had fled Therinhold Redoubt.

She felt strong enough to return to her combat duties, and a little training to shake off any cobwebs seemed like a good way to start.

Cullen had not even looked at her, he refused, politely of course, he made some lame excuse about needing to travel out to the hinterlands, several farms had been burned and the families living there had all but vanished.

She had promised him that she would deal with it, that he did not need to go himself, but he remained adamant.

He had left that very evening.

The Inquisitor sighed.

When they had first arrived at Skyhold, she had let slip that she was glad that he…that everyone had survived."

She shook her head.

Even an illiterate peasant would no doubt pick up the meaning of her words. Since then Cullen had kept his distance, making her feel even more like a stupid and lovesick child.

Had she pushed too hard? Had he left because he felt uncomfortable with her regard and her new position?

It was possible she supposed.

The Inquisitor clenched her fists.

She was such a stupid cow!

The Inquisition expected so much of her.

She needed to stop acting like some doe-eyed innocent.

She straightened her back, and breathed out, willing her affection for Cullen to go with it.

She needed to focus on the job at hand.

Corypheus needed to be stopped…

…That was all that mattered.

Orlais needed to be saved, and she…

She needed to grow up.

It was painful, true.

But doing good often was…

Ana sighed.

It was time to let it go.

Andraste guide her.

IOI

Cullen sat quietly in his campaign tent. The Commander of the Inquisition's military forces had retired hours ago, but sleep had not found him, not tonight, and last night either.

He shook his head; he was still armored from yesterday, his left hand resting on the hilt of his longsword.

He looked down at his right.

It still shook…uncontrollably.

He cursed and clenched his fist, willing it to stop. Yet still…the tremor remained.

He swallowed hard; his mouth was dry, and felt like sandpaper, his head muzzy with slight confusion.

Cullen shook his head.

Today promised to be a very bad day.

He continued to wrestle with lyrium withdrawal. He had not taken a single draft in almost a year now, most of the time he could hide the symptoms, but days like today…that was more difficult.

He shuddered.

He was already sweating, he wasn't eating. He could barely sleep, and when he did sleep…

_He **was** tortured._

It was the same torture he had endured for the last ten years. A moment of sweetness twisted into something dark.

He dreamed of Solona.

He dreamed of **that** night, **their** night.

The Commander shuddered.

He still remembered the way she had felt, the smell of her skin, her hair, and the sweet taste of her lips, how it had felt to hold her, to kiss her, and make love to her…

His body still stirred at the memory.

The dream always began the same; he lay in bed next to her, his arms wrapped around her slender waist as he layered kisses on her pale shoulders.

She giggled slightly.

"Cullen…stop…"

He sat up in bed, she was covered barely, a single sheet that did little to hide her pale skin, her soft flesh.

She rubbed her foot against his, he smiled and glanced down.

A familiar tattoo graced Lona's ankle, a rosebud with thorny stem wrapped around her ankle, she…

Cullen's eyes widened.

Solona had never had…

She rolled over, turning her smiling face upon him. Yet…this time it was different…

This time it was not Solona!

Lady Ana smiled up at him, much as she had done that night he carried her back to her cabin in Haven.

"Hi," she purred.

He tried to speak…to…apologize, to explain…he…she…they…

This…this was not right.

She gave him a sad look.

"Good bye, Cullen," she said.

The door slammed open!

"NOOOO!"

He wailed as the abomination ran into the room, he found his sword in hand, but the creature swatted him away like he was nothing.

Ana rose, clad in armor the same armor she had worn when Haven fell.

"Get away from him," she shouted.

Cullen tried to call out. He tried to tell her to run, but…it was too late.

He sobbed.

It was always too late.

Corypheus strode through the door, he raised his hand and wave of magic pulsed towards Ana.

"It struck her shield and dissolved it. Then the magic reached her, just as it had reached Solona.

Ana screamed as she melted away.

Solona screamed as she melted away.

Cullen sobbed pathetically. He laid his head in his hands, they shook uncontrollably from withdrawal, but he did **not** care.

_He had failed Solona._

_He __**would **__fail Ana!_

It was only a matter of time.

He had failed, and he would fail again.

It was his curse.

It is what kept him alive.

The Commander wept.

_It is what kept him…alone…_

_All alone._


End file.
